Harry Potter and the Wands of Invention
by Sarily
Summary: After the events of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, some exciting things are happening to Harry...but will it be enough to help him stand up to his destiny?
1. On The Lookout

(Of course, I am borrowing all Harry Potter characters, etc. from J.K. Rowling)  
  
Chapter 1: On The Lookout  
  
It was an unusually chilly July morning on Privet Drive, but few of the inhabitants of the quiet neighborhood were acknowledging it. Indeed, it seemed that the early morning gardeners and car-washers were intentionally ignoring this uncharacteristic change in the weather, as the stubbornly donned their T-shirts and shorts and began their weekend chores. The only person on Privet Drive who took any notice of the chill was a thin, knobbly kneed teenager who was perched by his bedroom window, atop an old desk, gazing intently into the distance.  
  
Harry Potter was certainly aware of the cold breeze that blew back his hair and made him squint his strikingly green eyes. There was definitely something strange going on, and Harry felt a dull but familiar sense of worry flutter through him. He continued, however, to focus his attention on a house far down the street.  
  
The house belonged to Mrs. Figg, a neighbor Harry had known most of his life. And though he still had not gotten over the shock of discovering that old Mrs. Figg was a member of the wizarding community to which Harry belonged, his interest in her home had very little to do with herself.  
  
Only a few days ago, Harry had chanced to glimpse a familiar figure prowling the garden of the house: an unbelievably rigid looking tabby cat. Though Mrs. Figg owned several felines, Harry couldn't help but notice that this cat looked awfully like Professor Minerva McGonagall, his animagus Transfigurations teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry had not seen the cat again since the first day, though he watched night and day, but he had no plans of giving up. He was eager for any news from the wizarding world.  
  
Though he kept up a relentless correspondence with his wizard friends, none of the mail-carrying owls brought anything to give him a clue as to what might be going on while he was locked away with his muggle relatives; everyone feared what might happen if any information fell into the wrong hands. Fear had rapidly swept of the people of the magical world after the Ministry of Magic had announced a month ago that the evil Lord Voldemort had returned after nearly fifteen years of peace.  
  
As Harry's thoughts drifted to Lord Voldemort, he recalled with a pang of loneliness how much the Dark Wizard's deeds had affected his life. He was known throughout the wizarding world as the one who destroyed Voldemort all those years ago, when he was still just an infant. He realized now, though, that his own life had been destroyed that very day by the terrible wizard, who had killed both Harry's parents and was also responsible for the recent death of Harry's godfather, Sirius Black.  
  
Harry had been trying not to think about Sirius since he had arrived back at the Dursleys' this summer, but no matter how hard he tried to forget, images of Sirius' last moments kept slipping into his thoughts. Even now Harry tried the push the memory away, but could not stop himself from reliving his godfather's defeat by a Deatheater, one of Voldemort's loyal followers. A painful pressure built up in Harry's chest as he fought once more against the angry roar which struggled to escape him, but he knew all too well that if he did let it out, he could not stop there. So, he did all he could to control himself, knowing that his ribs were too sore and his eyes were too red to cry anymore.  
  
Finally, with a deep sigh, Harry opened his eyes and looked again out the window with a feeling of overwhelming helplessness. For the past month he had been fighting a constant battle against the grief that threatened to overcome him. What he missed most about Sirius was having someone to confide in-someone to comfort and advise him. But Sirius was gone now, just when Harry needed him most.  
  
He turned again to the window and forced his eyes back onto Mrs. Figg's lawn, but still couldn't clear his mind. At the end of last term, Harry had learned something which had haunted him ever since. After avoiding subject for many years, Harry's headmaster, Professor Dumbledore had decided to tell the truth about his destiny. A prophecy, uttered before Harry was even born, declared that he, Harry, was destined either to destroy Voldemort, or die by his hand. Though he felt like a coward, hiding away and refusing to face the inevitable, Harry knew he wasn't ready to confront his future, or Lord Voldemort. And so, roughly shaking his head, he started watching again for the elusive tabby, rather than think of the terrible fate which awaited him outside his aunt and uncle's house.  
  
He set his face against the cool wind and prepared to watch for a long time. So intent was Harry on watching the house that he didn't even notice as a sleek, furry animal darted up through his second story window and landed gracefully on the desk beside him. 


	2. An Unexpected Visitor

Chapter 2: An Unexpected Visitor  
  
"Mr. Potter! You look terrible!" Harry whirled around so quickly he nearly fell out the window.  
  
"Professor McGonagall!" he gasped. He was too shocked to do anything but stare as the serious-looking witch drew her wand and began to clear away some of Harry's clutter. She then magicked up a couple of chairs and took a seat.  
  
"Now, Mr. Potter, " she began, "if you could please regain control of your jaw and try to bring your eyes back to their normal size, I believe we have some things to discuss."  
  
Harry quickly shut his gaping mouth ad tried to relax his eyes, but only managed to blink several times. Professor McGonagall seemed mildly amused and motioned for him to sit down on the second chair. She leaned forward a bit and quietly spoke.  
  
"Harry, I haven't got very much time here so we'd better get straight to business."  
  
"Time.? Business.?" Harry asked numbly. He slipped off the desk and settled himself nervously in the empty chair; Professor McGonagall always made him feel like he was in trouble. "What's going on?"  
  
"Well, Potter, I have several matters to discuss with you, but the charm I placed on this house wears off rather soon, so we must use our time wisely." If possible, Harry looked even more confused, so Professor McGonagall hurried to explain.  
  
"You see, Potter, I've placed a concealment charm on your aunt and uncle's home to make any magic done within undetectable. Specifically, we are trying to prevent the Ministry from noticing-the last thing you need is to be in trouble for underage sorcery.So! Let me start at the beginning.  
  
"I've come at Dumbledore's request for several reasons. Firstly, I'm here to check that you are safe and healthy, and as I said before, you look terrible!" She broke off and began conjuring up breakfast, pumpkin juice, and a little table to hold it all. Harry tried to decline, feeling rather uninterested in eggs and toast just now.  
  
"I'm fine, Professor, really," he said, holding up a hand. But the professor was stubborn.  
  
"Mr. Potter, I insist that you eat! You look as if you haven't eaten for days." With that, Harry gave up, admitting to himself that it had been some time since his last meal, unless he counted the couple of chocolate frogs he'd forced down yesterday. Professor McGonagall seemed satisfied as Harry unenthusiastically reached for a piece of toast.  
  
"Good. Now, the second matter is this." She reached into a pocket in the fold of her robes and pulled out a folded up letter, which she passed to Harry. He noticed immediately that the handwriting was Professor Dumbledore's. Still holding a bit of toast up to his mouth, he began to read.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I apologize for the lack of warning, but I am sure you will understand under the circumstances.  
  
I've asked Professor McGonagall to visit you for a very important reason. I am quite confident that it would be in your best interest, at this time, to allow Professor McGonagall to assist you in the procedures necessary to become an animagus. The choice is yours. I trust that you will act responsibly, should you choose to accept her help.  
  
In any case, I also want to ensure you that you will soon be able to join your friends for the remainder of the summer. You will be traveling with a member of the Order as soon as our new headquarters have been sufficiently guarded.  
  
Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore  
  
Harry read the letter through two times and then dropped the bit of toast as he looked up from the letter.  
  
"An animagus?" he choked, "Why?"  
  
"A protection measure," she replied grimly, "Surely you can see the benefit. Dumbledore wishes you to be able to conceal yourself if you come across any...trouble." She gave him a meaningful look as she spoke the last word, which reminded him once again of his hopeless situation. Perhaps Professor McGonagall noticed the desperation which had crept into his eyes, but in any case, she hurried one. "This disguise must be kept secret, so unfortunately it will have to be done illegally; the whole thing would be useless if you were to be registered with the Ministry.  
  
"Well? What do you think? Are you ready to begin?" Harry looked up to find her looking at him expectantly.  
  
"Doesn't it take years to do this?" he exclaimed, "Wh-what will I need to do?"  
  
"No, not years. One year at the most for a well trained witch or wizard. In your case, most of the procedure has already been done for you. It has taken a little less than one year for this potion to be brewed." she pulled out a small package from her robes and unwrapped it to reveal a tiny vial of clear liquid. "You'll need to do little more than swallow this, but you must first be certain that you want to go through with it."  
  
Harry looked up from the vial hesitantly. He wanted to ask who had brewed the potion. He strongly suspected it was his potions master, Professor Snape and he was less than thrilled about drinking it. Knowing Snape, it could be anything in there.  
  
"Professor? What animal will I become?" He thought immediately of all the foul things Snape could conceive for him. What if he turned into a bat or a toad? That would certainly amuse Snape, who hated Harry with a passion.  
  
"That is something you must decide," she said solemnly, "I suggest a creature that will not draw attention and won't limit you physically." Harry tried to think of likely choices. His father had been a stag, but that was much too large. Some sort of mouse? Certainly not. Hedwig, his owl, would probably eat him.Hedwig! With some excitement, he looked up at Professor McGonagall.  
  
"An owl!" he said firmly.  
  
"Excellent! You'll fit in just fine as an owl-perhaps not among muggles, but that shouldn't be a problem. Now, give me one of your hairs please."  
  
Harry obeyed as Professor McGonagall looked somewhat uncertainly at his unruly hair. Then, with a complex flicking of her wrist, she transfigured the hair into a small, black feather. She swiftly opened the vial and dropped the feather into the liquid, where it quickly disintegrated. Harry watched curiously as the potion cleared up and became colorless again.  
  
"Now drink the potion and as you do, try to envision the animal form-it usually works best that way. And don't stop midway! All at once, if you please." Nervously, Harry grasped the vial and brought it to his lips. 'Here goes!' he thought, and closing his eyes, he imagined an owl and drained the whole thing in one gulp. 


	3. Owls and OWLs

Chapter 3: Owls and O.W.L.s  
  
Harry slowly opened his eyes, fearing the worst. What if he had messed up? What if he had unwittingly turned himself into some sort of mutant creature? What if Snape had played a trick on him? He held his breath as he finally took a first look at himself, and gasped with surprise.  
  
He hadn't transformed at all! He was at once disappointed and relieved; at least he wasn't a blast-ended hippogriff or worse.but before he could think of any more horrid combinations, he was interrupted by a loud huff from Professor McGonagall.  
  
"Honestly, Potter! If I didn't know better I'd think you hadn't been paying attention in my class! I'm sure I explained before that the transformation takes more than just a swig of potion. Let's continue." With a grimace, Harry prepared to try again, wondering if teachers could give assign detentions before school even started.  
  
"To transform into the animal," the professor began, "you'll need to completely focus all of your energy on it, at least for a moment. For some people this is difficult, but for many people it happens very easily. Its called _animavisus_. Try just to clear your mind, calm down, and then envision the owl again. Once you have the image in your mind, all you need to do is sweep you wand-like this-and complete the final 'swick' motion. Understood?"   
  
"Yeah, lemme just try." Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was no trouble to get a good owl image, and as he focused on the bird, he felt a strange warmness flowing through him. Without hesitation, he moved his wand about as Professor McGonagall had shown him, and as he finished his "swick" he felt it-it was wonderful!  
  
Immediately Harry felt light and full of energy. He eagerly turned to look in his wardrobe mirror, but jumped with surprise as he found himself staring at the back of a sleek, black owl. It took him a split second to realize that he had turned his head completely around, and then he quickly rotated his body to match it. Harry noted with approval that his eyes, though they had grown quite a bit, were still the same clear, deep green. He couldn't resist the urge to begin trying out his wings, stretching and flapping-- much to the dismay of Professor McGonagall.  
  
"Harry! Quiet down, please! I've placed charms on your aunt and uncle, but your cousin might still wake up if you keep flapping around like that. Now stop this tomfoolery and focus!"   
  
Harry tried to give a quick 'Sorry, Professor!' but jumped as a faint 'Hoo!' escaped him. Professor McGonagall lightened up as she saw Harry's huge eyes grow even wider in surprise.  
  
"All you have to do now is transform back. Seeing as you had no trouble turning into an owl, the reverse process --_homovisus_ --should be quite simple," she assured him, "Just envision yourself again, the 'human Harry', and that should do it."  
  
Slightly disappointed about having to change back so quickly, Harry cleared his mind again, and then pictured himself. Again, he felt suddenly filled with warmth, before he found himself back in human form. After a quick check for all the essential arms, legs, and heads, Harry looked up expectantly at his professor.   
  
"Very nice. That didn't take nearly as long as I had planned." she broke off as she looked at a piece of parchment she had just pulled out of her seemingly endless assortment of pockets. Seeming satisfied, she tapped the page with her wand and Harry watched as it disappeared with a little wisp of dust. "That leaves only one thing to be done." Professor McGonagall looked like she was getting up to leave, but without thinking, Harry blurted out something that he had just remembered.  
  
"Professor," he piped up, "What did Professor Dumbledore mean about a new headquarters? For the Order of the Phoenix.?" The professor's face immediately fell as she looked over at him.  
  
"Ah." she began. She seemed to be stalling. "Yes, well, due to certain...circumstances.the Headmaster thought it would be best to move the headquarters to a better protected location."  
  
"But, Sirius' house was protected," Harry puzzled, "What more protection could there be? Where is the new headquarters?"  
  
"Mr. Potter, I'm sure you'll get a chance to ask the Headmaster yourself soon. You'll be escorted to the headquarters as soon as the protections are ready. So, if there is nothing more, I have something more to give you." She pulled out an envelope and handed it to him matter-of-factly. "These are the results of your O.W.L. examinations and your school letter is in there as well. I've got to head off now, but don't worry, Potter, you'll be able to rejoin your friends soon. Good-bye!"  
  
In the blink of an eye, Professor McGonagall became a cat once more. She crouched quickly to her wand, which had fallen when she transformed, and picked it up in her mouth before bounding effortlessly out the window and out of sight.   
  
Harry watched out the window for a moment, before turning back to his room. He glanced around and noticed that everything had gone back to how it had been before. The chairs and table were gone, and the floor where they had been was once again covered in a clutter of Harry's books and clothes. Sighing deeply, Harry fell backwards onto his bed, unsure what to do next.   
  
'How long would he be stuck here at the Dursleys'?' he wondered. McGonagall and Dumbledore had both promised that he'd be seeing his friends soon.as soon as the protections were finished. What were these protections about anyway? With a stab of grief, Harry recalled Sirius talking about all the protections his own father had placed on the Black family home. What more did the Order need? What were they getting ready?  
  
The more Harry thought about it the more it puzzled him. From all of the letters he received this summer, Harry had gotten the impression that Remus Lupin, Tonks, Mad-eye, and other members of the Order of the Phoenix were spending their free hours at the headquarters. Even more convincing were the letters from his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger; the two often send joint letters with obscure references to things going on within the Order. 'They must be there,' Harry told himself, 'But why aren't I?'  
  
A heavy feeling of gloom fell over him. This was too much like last summer, when he'd been cut off from everyone, left only with frustrating hints about the action going on elsewhere. He'd been furious to discover that members of the Order had been following him, watching him, and suspicions that Dumbledore and the rest didn't trust him were seemingly confirmed once school started. The Headmaster continued to avoid him--it wasn't until the end of the year that Harry learned the reason; Dumbledore had suspected, and rightfully so, that Voldemort was using his psychological link with Harry to get to Dumbledore. Suddenly, Harry sat upright as a realization came upon him.   
  
'That's why she wouldn't tell me!' he thought to himself angrily, "They're right, though," he admitted quietly, 'Sirius died because of me, and a few others came pretty close. Nobody should trust me. I can't even keep Him out of my own head!' It made a lot of sense that Dumbledore wouldn't want to share the location of the headquarters. But he'd find out soon enough, and then what? Harry decided that must be what the protection business was all about. Dumbledore must have some way of blocking Voldemort's unwelcome thoughts, and didn't want Harry around until the headquarters was secure.  
  
"Well, its all for nothing!" Harry said venomously to his empty room, "I'm not going." He'd made up his mind. He wasn't going to risk endangering anyone else this time. If his life had to be doomed, at least he'd have peace knowing that his friends were still safe. Harry turned to face his reflection in the mirror; his face was set in a determined look, but as he noticed his hand start to tremble, he looked away. He threw himself against the bed as the loneliness of his decision seemed to rain down on him. Out of anger and frustration, Harry pounded his fists on his unresponsive mattress, but then noticed, with a vague feeling of surprise, that he was holding something. Bringing his hand closer to his face, he recognized the envelope that Professor McGonagall had handed him as she left: his O.W.L. results. Harry quickly crushed the envelope and threw it across the room in a rage. He wouldn't need it anymore. He was never going back.


	4. Birthday Cheer

Chapter 4: Owls and O.W.L.s

Harry awoke the next morning to the sound of furious pounding on his bedroom door.  Rolling off the bed with a groan, he tried to remember when he had fallen asleep last night.  Then, as he became unpleasantly aware of the soreness of his eyes and throat, he remembered the countless hours he'd spent curled miserably on his bed, face and body tense and twisted with anguish.  Harry had dragged himself to the door just as a stream of angry threats burst from the other side.

"Get out here, you lazy little ingrate, before I break this door!"  It was Harry's Uncle Vernon. "What have you been doing in there for the past week?  I want this bloody door open in the next twenty seconds or--" Harry didn't give his uncle a chance to finish his sentence as he threw open the door, glaring moodily at the massive form before him.

"What is it?" he demanded.  He was in no mood to be civil to his prat of an uncle.

"What is it!" bellowed the, "What _is_ it?  You've been holed up in this pit of a room for days!"

"So?" Harry spat, "Since when do you care?  You never seemed disappointed before!"

"Watch your tone with me, boy!  Don't act like you don't know, you little liar!  You haven't done anything around this house all summer-sneaking around, doing who knows what in here. and that _bloody _owl!  Screeching like the dickens in broad daylight!  God forbid the neighbors hear that racket!" Uncle Vernon seemed to be getting into his stride, but Harry had stopped listening to the rant when his uncle mentioned his owl.

"Hedwig's back?" he murmured, raising his eyebrows in surprise.  Wondering how he had missed her arrival, he turned quickly to her cage and found the snowy owl looking peacefully up at him.  "Hedwig!" he cried, "When did you get back?"  He rushed over to her, hoping to find a letter from Ron or Hermione.

"Don't ignore me, boy!  You've mooched off of this family for too long!  There are plenty of chores that need doing.  You can start earning your keep like a decent person!"  Harry turned quickly back to his uncle.

"Decent person?  Oh no.  I am through being a slave to you people!  Do your own bloody chores!" he noticed with pleasure that his uncle's flabby face was quicky turning very red.  Satisfied, Harry turned back to Hedwig, but as he reached for the envelope tied to her leg, he remembered his decision from the morning before and hesitated.  Unfortunately, Uncle Vernon chose this exact moment to resume his tirade.  He decided to start in on a new subject, completely unaware of the folly of his words.

"When are you leaving anyway?" he barked, "Isn't it about time for you to slouch off and join your sleazy godfather and the rest of your freak-friends?"

Harry whipped around, giving his uncle a fierce, dangerous look.  All of his frustration and loneliness, the grief and anguish he'd been trying to hold back, were now reaching a breaking point.  An overwhelming rage came over him as he took a step towards his uncle, eyes flashing with wrath.

"I'll be leaving," he began angrily, "whenever I BLOODY WELL PLEASE!"  Harry watched as the huge man stepped back in shock, then continued, "And don't think you'll be ordering me what to do!  Leave me alone, or else.  I'll do as much magic as I want.  I don't care if I'm expelled.  I'm not going back to school anyways.  So unless you want to be jinxed into oblivion, you'd better start trying to wedge yourself back out of my room!"

Uncle Vernon, who had gasped when Harry said 'magic,' stumbled back out of the room with a look of horror on his fleshy face.  He seemed to believe his nephew, who had his wand pointed ominously at Vernon's heart.  Harry thought he heard the man whimper weakly before he shuffled away with considerable haste.

Harry slammed his door shut again and then collapsed against it.  Hedwig flew gracefully down to his knee and looked at him expectantly.  He reached out a hand to stroke her and felt his anger melt away.

"Oh, Hedwig," he whispered, "What am I going to do?"  As if in answer to his question, she daintily held her leg out to him, reminding him of the unopened letter.

"Fine," he mumbled.  He reached for the letter, admitting that he had nothing better to do.  "I might as well read it - I can't very well send it back."

He unsealed the envelope and pulled out a single piece of parchment.  But just he had unfolded the letter enough to see the familiar writing of his friend Ron, an oversized box suddenly dropped out of the letter, making Harry gasp and drop the page.  He eyed the box suspiciously, but then reached again for the letter and began to read.

_Hey, Harry!_

_Happy Birthday!_

 Harry did a double take before smacking himself on the forehead, wondering how he could have forgotten his own birthday.

_Hope you're doing okay-too bad you can't be here instead of with those lousy muggles.  Give your cousin Dudley a kick for me._

_Anyway, we all wanted to send you your birthday presents, but thought a big package would be too conspicuous.  So Fred and George gave us some of their  Presto_ Parchment.  _You can fold it around basically anything and it'll conceal it perfectly ad stay just the same size!  Even Hermione was impressed._

_She says to say "Hi!" to you and everyone says "Happy Birthday!" so have a good one!  Hope you like your gifts (maybe your relatives will like them too!).See you soon!_

_Ron_

Harry smiled as he saw that several other people had signed the bottom of the parchment.  Then his curiosity got the better of him and he slid the fallen box closer to him and began to open it.

He was amazed to see how much had been packed inside.  Along with several wrapped packages and about two dozen chocolate frogs, there was also a delicious-looking pie and a fresh supply of owl treats for Hedwig.  Harry reached for the pie first, pulling a note from it as he did.  The note, and evidently the pie, was from Mrs. Weasley, Ron's mum.  Harry could almost see her worried face as he quickly read through the note.

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy Birthday, Dear!  I hope you like the pie.  Minerva McGonagall dropped by and told me you looked rather awful!  I _do_ hope those muggles are feeding you.  The sooner you get here the better.  Not to worry though!  It won't be long now.  Have a lovely day!_

_Love,_

_Molly_

_P.S. The pie is charmed to remake itself once you get to the end, so it should last quite awhile._

Harry set the pie and the note aside with a sigh.  Mrs. Weasley was like a mother to him, and the rest of the Weasley's truly felt like his family.  He knew they'd be worried and upset if he didn't go back, but he couldn't bear to see anything happen to any of them.  With a feeling of dread, he went about opening the rest of the packages.  With every new gift, the knot in his stomach tightened.  

There was an assortment of prank items from Ron, including a bag of powder labeled _Weasleys__' Wizard Wheezes' No-Magic Mayhem  _("Ideal entertainment for underage wizards!") and a couple of suspicious-looking candies, which Harry assumed were meant for Dudley.  The owl treats were from Hermione, along with a little book called _Rainy Day Spells_.  She'd also been thoughtful enough to enclose a few clippings from the wizard newspaper_ The Daily Prophet_, which Harry set aside to look at later.  Ron's sister Ginny had sent a little journal-like book, which turned out to be a Quidditch playbook, already partially filled with famous plays from Quidditch history.  

All of the gifts made him long to be with his friends, but it was when Harry opened the last package that he finally felt like his heart would burst.  Enclosed in a plain, smooth wooden frame was a picture, accompanied with a small card signed by Remus Lupin, best friend to Harry's late father and godfather.  The picture displayed all of his closest friends, waving out at him from a room which Harry didn't recognize.  All of the Weasley's were there, with the exception of Ron's brother Percy. Hermione and Remus looked slightly out of place among the crowd of red hair, but didn't stick out as much as Mad-eye Moody with his haggard countenance, or Tonks, a young Auror with blindingly yellow hair.  Professor Dumbledore stood on the far right, smiling gently beside the rigid form of Professor McGonagall.

Smiling up at him were all of the people that cared about Harry; everyone he loved and wanted to be with.  But to Harry it was like a warning.  These were all of the people who would be endangered by his presence and any one of them might die at Lord Voldemort's hands if Harry didn't do something to stop it.  Suddenly, the prophecy, which had haunted him all summer, took on a new meaning.

Harry realized now that his fate didn't matter to him.  The lives of everyone he cared for depended on him; if he let them down, his life would be meaningless.  Though the truth of this weighed heavily on him, he felt a new strength within him.  He would not let them down.  If it was up to him to destroy Voldemort, he would do everything in his power, though he feared that it would not be enough.

Harry searched frantically on his desk until he found a parchment and a quill, and then began a quick letter to Ron and the others.

_Dear Everyone,_

_Thank you all so much for the wonderful gifts!  They're all really terrific!  Everything is going great here--hope you are all having a good holiday!_

_Harry_

He quickly attached the letter to Hedwig and after giving her a few owl treats, sent her off.  Then he swept everything off his desk and went about his room collecting all of school books.  With a 'smack' he dropped the pile onto his desk and sat down.  "I've wasted too much time moping around already," he thought to himself, "It's time I start figuring out how to face my destiny."

With desperate hope of finding something-anything-that might be the answer to his problems, Harry began reading through all of the books, starting with _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_.  If there was anything useful in these books, he was determined to find it. And so, with an untiring thoroughness, Harry read into the night, unwilling to stop until he'd read them all.


	5. Tests and Traveling

Chapter 5:  Tests and Traveling

In a round, warmly lit office, there sat a wizened old wizard who seemed so perfectly comfortable and at peace, that one might think at first that he was fast asleep.  His eyes were closed and he hands were clasped loosely in front of his face as his elbows rested gently on the arms of his chair.  The room was filled with strange and interesting things, and the walls were lined with paintings of distinguished-looking old witches and wizards.  One painting, however, was particularly interesting, because at the moment it was empty.  

Without warning, the door to the office flew open and a distressed witch rushed up to the old man.

"Dumbledore!  Is he alright?"  Professor McGonagall looked at the headmaster with worried eyes, and a few strands of hair had snuck out of her usually immaculate bun.

"Please sit, Minerva.  I'm expecting news any moment.  He was badly injured when we found him, but he was talking."  Professor Dumbledore's words were meant to comfort the anxious witch, but she noticed the strain in his voice and thought she saw a glimmer of fear in his eyes.  

"You talked to him?  What happened with th-" she began excitedly, but she was cut short suddenly by a third voice.

"Professor Dumbledore, I've just spoken with the healers.  Hagrid is going to be fine."  The voice was coming from the portrait which had been empty seconds ago.  The woman in the portrait was nodding happily, making her curly hair bounce around.  Professor McGonagall sank into a chair, but she stilled looked anxious as she eyed Dumbledore expectantly.  Finally, sensing her impatience, he spoke.

"To answer your question, or rather, question_s_...yes.  I spoke with Hagrid.  And thanks to the news we've just received, I can safely say that we now have two less things to worry about."  

"So it was successful?"

"Very successful.  Due to recent developments, the giants were more that ready to accept Fudge's terms.  Though, from what Hagrid said, he had a rather difficult time explaining to them."

"But.what happened?  Why did they attack him if.?"  McGonagall let her words hang in the air as a new thought seemed to occur to her.  "Death Eaters?"  Dumbledore nodded solemnly.

"Yes, I suppose Hagrid is very thankful for his Giant blood now.  So many stunning spells at once might have destroyed anyone else. But please," he said, "What news do you have from headquarters?"

"Everything is going well.  Mundungus and Lupin are ready to escort Harry whenever you give the word." 

"Excellent.  Well, it should only be a few days, Severus tells me.  He made a request to accompany them."

"Pfft!" she said as she made a sour face.  "Severus?  Go with the two of them?  He must have been joking."

"He was quite serious, Minerva.  He feels his potion should be tested to be sure it's strong enough." The old man's eyes twinkled slightly, "As Severus pointed out, Harry can be very stubborn at times."

*****

In the dim early morning light, Harry awoke to the sound of loud tapping.  He looked up groggily to see Hedwig hovering impatiently at his window.  He stumbled up from the hard chair he'd fallen asleep in and quickly let her in before shutting the window with a 'smack'.  Hedwig landed heavily on Harry's desk and ruffled her feathers with distaste, spraying the room as she did so.  It was already beginning to drizzle outside, and Harry thought fleetingly that the weather seemed to be mirroring his mood very well recently.

He had spent the last two weeks searching tirelessly through a towering stack of books, which were now strewn messily across his desk.  He had hunted feverishly through each book at least two times, but found nothing.  Several times he had thought he was onto something, only to be disappointed when it led nowhere.  Indeed, with each new day, Harry was growing more and more desperate; he'd even read all of Gilderoy Lockhart's books, wondering crazily if he might find some small clue within.  But it was all in vain.  Harry hadn't come across any information about defeating dark wizards.

Now he was just exhausted.  For two weeks he had barely slept.  The only rest he got came in the form of random, accidental naps, after which Harry would awake with his head resting in an open book and a quill still in hand.  Now, standing next to his unused bed, he found it very inviting and finally gave in and sat down on it.  Hedwig took this opportunity to settle herself happily on his lap, and he noticed at once that she was carrying a letter.  'Prob'ly a response from Lupin,' he thought, as he slowly untied it from her leg.  He'd been careful to write to Lupin a few times to keep him from worrying or coming to check up on him.  When at last Harry got the letter off, he read it quickly before tossing it aside.

"Yep," he said aloud, "Another letter from Lu-- wait!"  Harry jumped up as if he'd been bitten, causing Hedwig to 'hoot' with alarm.  He wasn't paying attention to her, though, as he looked again to the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_Glad to hear that your relatives are treating you well.  Perhaps that means I'll get a friendly welcome?  I'll be arriving early today as part of your escort.  See you soon!_

_Sincerely,_

_Remus_

Harry froze.  Remus-an _escort_-was coming here _today_?  No. No. _NO_.  He couldn't go with them.  He'd have to leave before they arrived.  Harry was sure that he wouldn't be able to convince Lupin to leave him alone.  He began throwing all of his things haphazardly into his trunk, wondering how much time he had.  Maybe he could fly off on his Firebolt racing broom.  Thinking vaguely of shrinking the trunk to fit in his pocket, he hurriedly heaved his books in, along with Mrs. Weasley's charmed pie and the rest of his birthday gifts.  But as he dumped the armload in with the rest of his belongings, Hermione's book of _Daily Prophet_ clippings fell open and he found himself looking into a familiar face.

Harry's stomach lurched as he recognized Sirius, whose picture was dead center underneath a headline which read '**The Late Black Cleared Of All Charges**.'  Forgetting about his rush, Harry sat down to read the article.

**Tragic truth revealed too late**

**Last Tuesday, Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, announced to the public that presumed-murderer, Sirius Black, was found to be innocent.  Though sentenced to life in Azkaban, Black served only twelve years of his sentence before he escaped nearly three years ago.  Now the facts reveal the truth about Black, only to discover that he was killed less than a month ago.**

Harry stopped reading as he felt a lump come to his throat.  That idiot Fudge!  He had heard the truth three years ago.  It was infuriating of him to clear Sirius' name now, after all the grief that could have been avoided!  Still, he felt strangely comforted to know that the wizarding world now knew the truth about Sirius.  Harry cursed himself for canceling his subscription to _The Daily Prophet_.  How long had this article been out?  Harry's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud shout from his uncle.

"Petunia!  The kitchen!  Where's that _boy_?"

Harry rushed madly around his room in an effort to gather the last of his things.  He slammed his trunk shut, grabbed his Firebolt, and whipped out his wand.  He was just getting ready to shrink the trunk when his door was thrown open.

Remus Lupin walked in, closely followed by Mundungus Fletcher, who looked like he had just walked out of a trash bin.  Harry, however, was looking in shock at the third arrival.  His jaw dropped as Professor Severus Snape swooped haughtily into the room.

"Good to see you, Harry!" Lupin said happily.  Harry nodded dumbly, still staring at Snape.

"What are you doing, Potter?" Snape lashed out, evidently irritated at Harry's reaction.  "I was under the impression that underage wizards were not permitted to practice magic during the holiday."  Harry realized too late that his wand was still raised over his trunk.

"Oh, cool down, Severus!" Mundungus chided, "He's done nothing wrong, just finishing 'is packing is all."  Snape gave Mundungus a withering look before turning to Lupin.

"Well, Lupin," he sneered, "Shall we get on with it then?"  He gave Lupin a meaningful look before gesturing ever-so-slightly towards the hallway.  Only then did Harry realize that his aunt, uncle, and cousin were all cowering at the top of the stairs, watching the three strangers with looks of utmost terror.

"Right, Severus!" Lupin said, a little too cheerily.  Then he turned to Harry, "All ready, then?"

"Er.I s'pose." Harry tried not to let Lupin see his disappointment.  There was no way he could avoid it now; he'd just have to go with them.  He started pulling his trunk out of the room, but Lupin stopped him.

"I'll get it.  You worry about your broom and your owl-cage.  Here, Dung, give me a hand!"  They began lugging the trunk into the hall and Harry made to follow, but was stopped by Snape.

"Wait, Potter.  Before we go, there is something you need to do." He reached into his robes and pulled out a large vial of dark, thick liquid.  Harry eyed it unhappily as Snape rolled the vial between his fingers.  Then, suddenly, he felt a dull pain in his head.  He looked up in surprise as Snape stumbled back against Harry's desk, holding both hands to his temples.  The greasy-haired professor was staring at Harry with an angry, puzzled look.  Slowly, he placed the vial back in his pocket.  Harry wondered what the substance in the vial had done to him as he watched Snape stalk quickly from the room. 

Harry, with Hedwig perched on his shoulder, reached the entryway just in time to hear Lupin speaking.

"So you gave him the test?  He took the serum?"

"Yes..no.let's just get out of here!"

"But, Severus," Lupin started to argue, but he stopped short as Snape turned to see Harry on the stairs. 

"Um.so how are we traveling?" Harry tried weakly to make the situation less awkward.

"Flying again." Lupin answered, obviously eager to change the subject.  "We can't use any tangible magic here so, no floo powder, though that'd probably be rather risky anyways."  As he spoke, Lupin laid a large length of parchment on the floor and Mundungus helped him heave the trunk onto it.  Then the two of them each picked up an edge and folded towards the center.

"_Presto Parchment,_" Mundungus told Harry, who quickly remembered his birthday letter as he watched the trunk dissolve into the plane of the paper.  Lupin then rolled up the parchment and stuffed it carefully into his rather shoddy robes.  Then Lupin quietly led the way out to the back yard.  Harry noticed with interest that his relatives were watching now from the living room.  He had just reached the back door when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

He turned and was surprised to see his Aunt Petunia standing there with a worried look on her face.  She seemed nervous as she looked at Harry uncertainly.  Then, leaning very close, she whispered into his ear.

"I'm sorry!"  Aunt Petunia turned and walked quickly back to the front of the house, leaving Harry to stare in amazement into the empty hallway.

"Potter! Get out here!"  Harry jumped at Snape's angry voice, but quickly pushed through the door and onto the wet back lawn.  All three of the men looked ready to mount their brooms, and Lupin was gazing up into the sky, trying to keep rain from dropping into his eyes.  Harry tucked Hedwig's cage under his arm and prepared to mount his own broom.  Seeing this, Hedwig fluttered above him excitedly.  Finally, Lupin turned to the others.

"Okay," he said, "Let's go, and try to stay out of sight, Harry.  Dung, you keep an eye out.  Let's go!"  With a burst of speed, all four of them pushed off, with Hedwig soaring playfully beside Harry, and for a moment, he forgot his reluctance about joining his friends and simply enjoyed the view.


	6. Familiar Faces

Chapter 6:  Familiar Faces

Dusk had swept gracefully across the sky by the time Harry and his escort finally began their descent.  Landing gently on a stretch of soft grass, Harry looked ahead to a quiet little village.  Tiny lights were beginning to flicker on in many of the houses, as the village was silhouetted against the setting sun.

Lupin made his way over to Harry, following his gaze to the glowing horizon.

"A red sun," he murmured.  "Tomorrow will be a nice day."  He continued to watch the sunset with a peaceful expression.

"Where are we?" Harry asked rather bluntly, suddenly feeling very annoyed at the whole situation.  They had flown nearly all day, but it had been far too brief in Harry's opinion.  A great weight seemed to have settled on him the moment he'd reached the ground, and Harry's frustrated mood had returned as well.

"We're near headquarters." Lupin answered without looking at Harry.

"Obviously!" Harry snapped, but Lupin seemed not to notice the anger in his voice.  Harry sighed as he tried to calm down.  It wasn't Lupin's fault that he had to be kept in the dark.  And it wasn't Dumbledore's fault either.  It was his own fault.  

A moment later, Harry was startled by the sound of Snape clearing his throat.  He came striding towards them with Mundungus strolling a ways behind him.  Snape gave Harry a nasty look as he stepped up to Lupin.

"Potter!" he snarled, "If you don't mind, I'd like to speak privately with Remus."  Harry was quite happy to jog back to Mundungus, if only to put some distance between Snape and himself. Hedwig was perched uncertainly on Mundungus' shoulder, and she quickly moved to Harry's shoulder as he came up.

"Have a good ride, Harry?" Mundungus asked pleasantly.  Harry nodded quietly at Mundungus while watching Snape and Lupin out of the corner of his eye.  Mundungus was not deterred and chatted merrily away to Harry's inattentive ear.  "I always like a good fly, eh? Though I wouldn't mind if my broom were a bit more comfortable.I wonder what the flying carpet market is like 'round now.?"  He rambled on, not noticing Harry's lack of interest.

They were slowly getting closer to the other two, and Harry was trying to catch a snatch of their whispered conversation.  He thought he heard Lupin give a surprised 'Why not?' and he was certain that he caught Snape's impatient reply.

"He doesn't need it!  I will discuss it with Dumbledore later, so let's jus--" Snape stopped abruptly as Harry and Mundungus reached them.  "Let's go!" he growled.  Lupin had a surprised look on his face, but beckoned to Harry as he turned to follow Snape.

As the three made their way down to the cluster of small houses, Harry's feeling of dread grew.  At last, Lupin stopped in front of a dilapidated length of fence and turned to Harry.  "Here," he said, "Read this." With a meaningful look at Snape, he handed Harry a slip of paper covered with Dumbledore's unmistakable scrawl. 

_The headquarters of the Order of the __Phoenix__ is located at The Cottage in Knoll's Village._

Harry handed the slip back to Remus and turned expectantly to the fence.  He wasn't disappointed.  Before his eyes, the fence grew apart and a path appeared, leading up to a small, white cottage.  The four of them marched silently up to the door of the cottage and Snape knocked impatiently.  Immediately, a scuffle could be heard on the other side.

"Harry!"  Mrs. Weasley practically attacked him, causing Hedwig to flutter away quickly.  "Oh, how are you, dear?  How was the trip here?  You're probably starved."  She broke off as she inspected Harry carefully at arms length.  

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," Harry mumbled.  He couldn't help but notice the alarmed look she wore, though she was trying to act cheerful.  He looked away hastily as her eyes became teary.  The inside of the cottage was truly a shock.  Though from the outside it was small and ordinary, the interior was completely different.  He felt as if he'd just walked into a small mansion.  The floors of the entryway were all covered in gleaming mahogany which reflected the light of a large chandelier perfectly.  Behind Mrs. Weasley, a wide staircase curled gradually up to a second and even a third floor, and beneath it the hall opened into a large bright room.  To either side Harry saw spaces furnished with lush carpets and large soft couches.  

Mrs. Weasley finally let go of Harry and turned to Lupin and the others.

"So, Remus, it seems everything went well?  Severus, will you stay for dinner?  Mundungus?"  She shuffled them away from the door and started heading to the back of the house.  She made to take Harry's arm, but someone beat her to it and he found himself being whirled around roughly.

"Harry!  You've come!"  Ron stood in front of him, beaming from ear to ear.  Ron's sister Ginny stood nearby, looking equally pleased.  

"Hi, Ron, Ginny.  How are you?"  Harry was trying to sound happy.  He was struggling with the urge to run right out the door.  He felt panicky, as if any moment something terrible might happen to ruin the happiness in the room.  Harry nearly jumped out of his skin as he was grabbed from behind again, but he was relieved to realize that it was only, Hermione.

"Sorry, Harry!" she said hastily, as she pulled him into a tight hug. "Didn't mean to sneak up on you, but, oh!  It's wonderful to see you!  Ah, I think Ron's mum has dinner ready.." Hermione looked up as Mrs. Weasley made another attempt to usher them all down the hall.

Hermione was certainly right.  They walked into the large, open room beyond the stairs and looked with awe at a long table, heaped with trays and dishes or all sorts of food.  Before Harry could speak, he was pushed into the nearest empty chair and a plate was set in front of him.  Hermione and Ron sat on either side of him, piling food onto their plates.  The food smelled delicious, but he felt almost too nervous to eat.  However, he did his best to eat it, if only to avoid a scolding from Ron's worried mother.  Almost immediately, they were joined by several more familiar faces.  They all greeted Harry enthusiastically before taking a seat and digging in.  Mr. Weasley slipped into the seat across from Harry, and two of Ron's brothers, Bill and Charlie, sat to one side.  Tonks winked and said hello as she seated herself directly across from Snape, who looked rather displeased about the whole thing.  Remus was talking quietly to a couple of witches, who Harry recognized as members of the Order.  Harry sat quietly, as Ron chattered casually about Quidditch, and Hermione, who obviously didn't approve of the topic, huffed loudly in annoyance.  Harry was having trouble paying attention to either of them, as he felt the need to look over his shoulder every few bites.

Suddenly, Harry noticed that Ron had stopped talking and was watching him.  He turned back to his plate and tried to think of something to say.

"So.er.whose place is this?"  He realized he had no idea where he was.  If Lupin wouldn't tell him, perhaps Ron and Hermione could.

"Ah, we don't really know!  We've tried asking but not even Lupin will tell us, and usually he's the best source."

"No, he didn't tell me either." Harry said.  

"Well, it's gotta be someone rich.  Wait 'til you see the bedrooms!"

"And it has to be a really talented witch or wizard who owns it," Hermione pointed out, quite pleased with the change of subject.  "The charm that's disguising it must be pretty complicated."

"Maybe Dumbledore did it?" Ginny suggested.

"Nope.  I asked what the charm was and he said he couldn't know for sure.  The owners did it."

"What did you want to know the charm for?" Ron demanded, "Are you gonna try it yourself if it's so complicated?"

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione moaned, "I was only interested."  The two of them began squabbling, leaving Harry and Ginny to their own discussions.

"So.ready for school to start?" Ginny asked, as she watched Ron and Hermione with a grin.  

"Oh, uh..sure."  Harry's throat clenched a bit at the thought of returning.  He glanced behind him again, and shifted uneasily in his seat.  "You?"

"Sure." Ginny stared at him briefly and then looked as if she was searching for something to say.

"Where are the twins?" Harry asked.  Fred and George Weasley were Ron and Ginny's fun-loving older brothers.  Harry had just noticed their absence.

"Oh, they're pretty busy lately.  Their joke shop has been a huge success."  Ginny looked like she was about to say more, but she was interrupted by an indignant shout from Ron.

"SLACKER?  Just because I give myself a little free time doesn't mean I'm a slacker!"  He was starting to get rather red.

"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley scolded him from the end of the table.  "If you are done eating you can go do something useful, like straighten your room."

"Or do your homework." Hermione muttered under her breath.  With a triumphant look, she rose and waited for Harry and Ron.  They walked back to the staircase, followed by Ginny.

As they made their way up the stairs, Hermione turned to Harry with a serious look.

"So how are you Harry?  They sure took their time getting you!  We thought they'd be fetching you weeks ago."

"Yeah, well," Harry started, "Dumbledore wouldn't allow it until now I guess.  Had to finish the protections or something."  

"Protections!" Ron cried.  "This place is dripping with protection charms!  They couldn't add more if they wanted to."  Hermione was looking thoughtful.

"Hmm.well I haven't noticed any changes since I got here, and that was awhile ago.  I wonder what they could've done."

"I wonder why they didn't mind us being here if it wasn't protected?" Ron asked, clearly offended.  "I guess we don't matter?  Why's Harry so pampered?"  Hermione gave him a sharp look, but Harry spoke up before she could say anything.

"I think Snape has something to do with it." He said quietly.  He was eager to change the subject.  He thought he knew exactly why they were so overprotective of him, but he hadn't told his best friends about the prophecy, and he didn't want to bring it up now.  "He came with Lupin and Mundungus, you know."

"Bet that was a thrill." Ron turned to Harry grimly as they reached the top of the stairs and turned right.  "Why'd he go?"

"I don't know, but he was acting weird..and something happened just before we left Privet Drive.  A few things actually."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.  Harry waited until they'd gone into a room and shut the door.

"Well, he wanted to speak to me privately, said he--" Harry stopped mid-sentence as he looked around the room, jaw practically falling off his face.

"Pretty spectacular, eh?" Ron said, grinning.

"No, I mean yes, but...it's just that I." Harry looked back to the other three slowly, ".I recognize this room."  For a moment, the three of them stared blankly at Harry, but soon, Ron narrowed his eyes suspiciously and Hermione got a distant, thoughtful look in her eye. Harry started walking around the room taking in all the details.

"From a dream or from real life?" Hermione asked seriously as Harry walked over to the fireplace.  He looked on the mantle, but felt strangely disappointed when he saw nothing familiar there.

"I don't know," he admitted, "But it must have been a long time ago."  He paused before a door, but as he reached for a handle, Ron spoke up.

"That's just a closet, mate.  This room is at the edge of the house, see?"  He seemed pleased with his logic, and actually chanced a quick look at Hermione to see if she was listening.  When he turned back, however, he nearly choked.

Harry had opened the closet door, but instead of finding a dark closet, he saw before him a smaller, cozier room, warm and bright.

"What the..!  I opened that door myself!" Ron cried, flabbergasted.  "I had clothes in that closet!"  He hurried over to inspect the new room along with Hermione and Ginny.

"Wow, Harry.what do you think this is?"  Hermione said quietly, but Ginny answered first.

"It's a nursery." She said matter-of-factly.  She waved a hand at the walls, which were covered in a playful, star pattern.  Harry had a strong feeling that she was right.  This was all getting too weird for him, and though the other three were quite interested in exploring the new room, he wanted more than anything to get out of it.  He turned quickly and strode out of the room, and was glad to see that the others followed him, if somewhat reluctantly.  It wasn't until Hermione shut the door behind them that Harry relaxed.

Ron tried at once to reopen it, but found only his dark, messy closet.  He turned awkwardly to Harry.  Luckily, Hermione broke the silence.

"So what were you saying about Snape?" she asked innocently.  Harry looked at her gratefully, and hurried to tell them all about the strange vial and Snape's whispered conversations with Lupin.  

"So Lupin was gonna let that git poison you?"  Ron cried in disbelief.

"Well, it wasn't poison, I think," Harry said slowly, "I feel fine, my head only hurt for a second.  In any case, Snape seemed affected more than me.  What bothers me is that Lupin obviously wanted him to give it to me.  He seemed really displeased that he didn't."

"Hmm.  Well, if you're fine now..and Dumbledore knows about it." Hermione didn't seem too worried.  Harry didn't know whether to agree or not.  Dumbledore almost always knew the right thing to do, but still, hadn't Snape said that he would be telling Dumbledore about this later?  It sounded as if Snape had gone against Dumbledore's wishes somehow, something that made Harry highly suspicious.

"Maybe you should just ask Lupin." Ginny said evenly.  She had a point.

"Yeah, I guess I will.  Maybe tomorrow."  Harry collapsed on one of the room's two beds.  He hadn't realized how tired he was, but thinking back to his sleeping habits over the last few weeks, he wasn't surprised.  The atmosphere of the room was extremely cozy.  Hermione and Ginny were stroking Hermione's cat Crookshanks, who was sprawled comfortably on Ron's bad.  Meanwhile, Ron had stretched out on a couch by the fireplace.  Harry was reminded strongly of their house common room at school.  As usual, as soon as he thought of Hogwarts, the panic returned to him, and he wished again that he could stay as far as possible from the people he loved.

He had to admit it though; it was nice to see them all.  It felt so good to have someone to talk to about his worries.  Harry sighed happily as he lay there, surrounded by friends, and before he knew it, he had drifted off to sleep.


	7. Revealing The Truth

Chapter 7:  Revealing The Truth

When Harry awoke the next day it was past lunchtime.  Sun was shining in through the many windows of the room and there was a curious stillness in the air.  Harry had a passing thought that it seemed almost too quiet, but he quickly pushed any suspicions from his mind and decided to go find Ron and Hermione.

Harry stepped out into the hallway slowly, unable to control the impulse to peak down the hall and around the corner.  Giving himself a shake, he continued downstairs, pricking his ears for sounds of his friends.  He heard nothing, however, and by the time he reached the entryway, he had begun to worry.  He dashed to the back of the house, knowing that if any of the Weasleys were at home, there was a good chance that Mrs. Weasley would be in the kitchen, cooking or chatting.  But though the room was sunny and peaceful, it was completely empty.  

Hearing a noise, Harry turned defensively with his wand raised, but to his relief, he found himself facing Hedwig.  He lowered his wand and mumbled an apology as he sat down at the end of the table and reached out a hand to stoke her.  In return, Hedwig gave him a few gentle nips and a soft 'hoot.'  

"I wondered what became of you." he told her earnestly.  "And where did I leave your cage?"  He looked around the room, wondering if he had carried it with him when he came in here last night.  As his eyes passed over the table, he noticed a piece of parchment lying beside the teapot, and realized that it was a note from Mrs. Weasley. She had left it to tell him that she had taken Ron, Ginny, and Hermione to Diagon Alley to buy their school things.  

Though he felt slightly hurt that they hadn't bothered to wait for him, Harry was glad that he hadn't accompanied his friends to Diagon Alley.  It would be far too risky for them to be with him in public, unprotected.  Harry unwillingly remembered Sirius, who had spent the majority of last year holed up at Grimmwauld Place; now it was Harry's turn to go into hiding, at least until he could get his act together and confront Voldemort.  Harry's stomach lurched at the thought.  

"Hello, Harry."  Harry looked up to see Lupin standing in the doorway.  

"Hey," he replied tonelessly.

"They wanted to wake you, but you wouldn't have been able to go with them anyway."  His voice trailed off as he watched Harry.  He smiled, but his eyes looked worried and tired.  Harry nodded.

"I wanted to talk to you anyway," he began hesitantly, "I was wondering.if you could answer a few questions--?"  

"I can try.  And I might as well go get your trunk from my other cloak.  You went upstairs without it last night.I'll be right back!" he said, and he hurried off to get his cloak.  Harry only had to wait for a moment: Lupin returned almost immediately carrying the _Presto Parchment_ and Hedwig's missing cage.  

"Thought you might want this too," he said as he set them both on the table in front of Harry.  In one swift motion, Lupin slid into the chair nearest to Harry, grabbed the teapot, and began to pour.  "Tea?" he asked, but Harry shook his head.  Lupin ignored this however, and pushed a steaming mug across the table.

"Drink," he said sternly, "I promised Molly you'd eat some breakfast.  She's worried about you." Lupin looked like he wanted to say something more, but he seemed to think better of it and simply said, "So what did you want to ask me?"

Harry wasn't sure what he wanted to say; he'd planned on asking about Snape, but now that he was face-to-face with Lupin, all he could think about was this house.  The more he looked around, the more familiar things felt.  He had to know the truth.

"This house." he finally blurted out, "It was my.I.I recognize it."  He exhaled slowly, only now noticing that he'd been holding his breath.  Lupin watched him quietly for a moment before clearing his throat to speak.

"I was wondering if you might remember this house," he began with a sigh, "I didn't really expect you to; you were very young the last time you were here.  But I suppose you've guessed.this was your parents' home, Potter Cottage."  Lupin hesitated, with a worried look at Harry.  "I'm sorry I didn't say anything before, Harry."

"No," Harry answered, "I understand."  Of course he understood.  If he knew the location of the headquarters, Voldemort could find out anytime.  It was best to keep him as much in the dark as possible, though he hated to admit it.  And now he felt as if he knew too much.  Somehow he always caused trouble, and now he had potentially jeopardized the safety of the Order.  "I'm sorry I found out," he muttered, "I didn't mean to."

"Don't be sorry Harry.  It's your history; you couldn't help remembering.  In fact, I'm glad you did.  Sometimes I feel like it was all a dream." Lupin's eyes got a blank, glazed look, "It's nice to know someone else remembers this place, even a little bit."

Harry's sinking feeling grew even more intense as he realized how Lupin must feel.  Here he was sitting at the kitchen table of James Potter, the man who had been one of his best friends.  Harry could imagine how lonely he must feel; his three closest friends all gone from his life forever.  As he looked up at his former teacher, he couldn't help but feel guilty.  It was his fault.  He could have prevented Sirius' death.  If only he had never been born, even his parents would still be alive.  

And now he had done it again.  Well, he'd have to remedy that.  

"Professor..?" he said slowly.

"Call me Remus, Harry."  Harry only nodded distractedly.

"Remus, I think you should do a memory charm on me.  Get me out of here.  I can't put the Order in this position.  How many people know where Potter Cottage is?  Even if I don't, the name alone is probably enough."

"Harry," Lupin interrupted him, "I'm not going to modify your memory.  You are perfectly safe here, no-please listen-this is possibly the safest place for you to be right now.  Every possible guarding spell and protection has been placed on Potter Cottage.  And you don't need to worry about Voldemort breaking into your thoughts.  Dumbledore himself assured me that it was all taken care of."  Harry now remembered unhappily the reason he had wanted to talk with Lupin in the first place: Snape.  What else could that potion have been except a mind protection?

"But Profes-Remus," he said quickly, "Snape didn't give me that potion of his.  It was the protection, wasn't it?  And I didn't take it!  So, I'm still--" He was cut off again by Lupin.

"Yes, it was a potion to guard your thoughts," Lupin told him, nodding, "It was a _Celosensa__ serum_: a thought-concealer.  But, that is certainly not the only protection.  There are several charms placed on the house to ward off mental intrusion."

"_Warding off mental intrusion_," Harry said, trying to stay calm, "Is not the same thing.  Don't you understand?" he pleaded, but he could see from Lupin's expression that he did understand.

"You're right, Harry, but Snape has his reasons.  He wouldn't take a risk like that."

"But why didn't he give it to me?" Harry was confused, but he felt slightly better; Lupin didn't seem at all worried.

"I do not know, but he's speaking with Dumbledore as soon as possible, and he promised me that there was no reason to worry about it.  I tried to question him, but he was rather.shirty with me."  Lupin made a face and Harry could imagine Snape's sneer as he refused to share the desired information.

"Will you tell me when you find out?" Harry asked quickly.

"If I find out anything, I'll tell you what I can," Lupin promised.  "And now!  I think we need some lunch, since we pretty much forgot about breakfast."  Harry joined him as he made his way towards the kitchen.

"Remus." he started uncertainly, "All the protections on this house.who did that?"

Lupin gave him a strange look, and answered, "Your parents put did them all.  Your mother mostly.  She was quite an expert with charms," he added thoughtfully.  He smiled a little and looked back at Harry.  "They loved this house, you know.  Designed it all themselves.  It still feels the same as it did the day they left it."  

Lunch was a simple affair.  Lupin had shown surprising skill in the art of sandwich-making.  Soon, he and Harry were sitting quietly on either side of a large platter.  Harry could feel Lupin watching him, so he tried to get through at least one good sized sandwich, but gave up halfway.  He had still had no appetite.

Harry's thoughts had drifted back to the prophecy.  It seemed much more real now that he was back in the wizarding community.  Seeing his friends only made him more determined to succeed, though he tried hard not to think about what that meant; he didn't want Voldemort to win, but he wasn't sure he wanted to become a killer himself either.  What he needed was information.  It seemed like every time he had an encounter with the dark wizard, he learned some new bit of information from Dumbledore.  If only he could get all the facts now, at once, he thought he would be much more prepared.

Then again, he was fairly certain that Dumbledore wouldn't agree to tell him everything.  The kindly old wizard had an infuriating habit of trying to protect Harry.  'But now everything's different!' Harry argued in his head, 'I can't go up against Voldemort not knowing who-_what_-I am facing.  I have a right to know everything there is to know.  More right than most people.'  Suddenly, Harry thought of something.

"Remus?" he asked sharply, "What does the Order do?  I mean.what happens in meetings and stuff?"

"Well," Lupin seemed to be deciding how he would answer, "You know what the order does.  We basically do everything we can to oppose Voldemort and his followers.  It involves a lot of recruiting efforts and we've been trying to negotiate with many different groups: merfolk, goblins, giants, even centaurs.  Most of the meetings are a chance for the members to update each other on the various business of the order."

"What about information?" Harry inquired, not-so-innocently, "I know you have spies in Voldemort's inner circle.  Some of you must be working on gathering information about him, about his plans.  Right?"  Lupin nodded in agreement, but was looking at Harry suspiciously.

"Harry," he began, "I'm not sure what you are getting at but-"

"I need to join the Order." Harry declared, "I need to know what's going on.  I think I have a right to get the full story."  Lupin looked like his fears had been realized, but to Harry's surprise, he answered quite calmly.

"Well, I agree with you, but there are certain concerns."

"I'll need to learn occlumency first." Harry admitted.  Lupin nodded.

"Yes.  And there are other things to consider.  There are reasons why underage wizards aren't allowed to join.  For one thing, their safety; you need to be able to apparate.  An Order meeting would be the ideal opportunity for a group of Death Eaters to attack; we need to be sure that all of the members can take care of themselves, which means quick escape and dueling if necessary."  He looked at Harry solemnly.  "But I believe you are quite capable of defending yourself when you need to, and." he smirked to himself, "I also think that I may be able to help you with the apparition business."

*****

Two hours later, Harry was deeply immersed in a book Lupin had given him, called _Gone In A Flash: Accelerated Apparation_, when Ron burst into the bedroom, followed shortly by Hermione.  

"Hey, Harry!" Ron greeted him jovially.  To Harry's relief, neither of them noticed as he quickly slipped the book under his pillow.  "Have a good day, mate?"

"Sure," Harry answered as he watched Ron heave a large bag of books onto his bed.  Hermione also carried a heavy looking sack, but she left it by the door and hurried over to Harry's bed.

"Have you been up here all day?" she asked, looking concerned.

"Nah.  Lupin and I had something to eat and we talked for awhile."  He instinctively looked behind him before he continued, "I asked about Snape."  He hesitated a moment to be sure that he had their attention.  Hermione stared at him expectantly and Ron perked up visibly.  "Turns out, that potion is the extra protection they've been working on.  It's called _Celosensa__ serum_." Harry ignored the excited squeak from Hermione and continued on, "It's supposed to be a way to conceal your thoughts."  Realization suddenly showed on Ron's face too.

"But, Harry," Hermione said, "Why didn't he give it to you?"

"I don't know," Harry said honestly, "And Lupin didn't either.  I guess Snape wouldn't explain to him, but whatever it is, he's going to talk to Dumbledore about it."

"So, all that time and they didn't even use the stupid potion?" Ron blurted, throwing his long arms out.

"I guess."

"Well, from what you told us about Snape, he was planning on using it, until the last minute when he changed his mind.  I wonder what was wrong." Hermione pondered, "And if he didn't give you the potion, does that mean your mind is an open book to Voldemort?" Harry smiled grimly at Hermione's impeccable logic.

"That's what I asked," Harry told her, "But Lupin said it was nothing to worry about, that Snape knows what he's doing.  Plus, he says there are plenty of mind protecting charms on the house."

"Hey!" Ron cried, "You should ask Lupin about the house, Harry."  Hermione gave Ron a look that told Harry all too clearly that she had deemed this a forbidden subject, but Harry figured he was going to tell them eventually, so he decided now was a good enough time.

"Actually, I did ask about the house," he confessed, "Turns out, this was my parents' house.  Lupin says I only lived here for a while when I was really young, but it's getting more and more familiar to me."

"Wow, Harry!  So your mum and dad put all those charms on the house?" Hermione was clearly impressed.

"Yeah, I guess the charms were mainly my mum's doing.  Lupin said they designed the whole place themselves."  
  


"No wonder there are secret rooms that only you can enter," Ron pointed out, sounding only slightly jealous, "This is your house." He finished flatly.

Harry looked up quickly.  He hadn't thought of it that way.  Until Ron said it, he'd only been thinking of it as his parents' old place, but now that he heard aloud, he realized it must be true.  He looked blankly at Ron and mumbled, "Potter Cottage."

"Cottage?" Ron choked, "Ha!  Your parents were rich Harry, no doubt about it."  Harry felt awkward immediately, hoping Ron wouldn't start feeling jealous; a few times in the past, Ron had been painfully aware of his own family's lack of wealth.  The Weasley's were poor but happy, and in Harry's opinion, Ron had it far better than he did.  Hermione had fallen backwards onto Harry's bed and was staring at the ceiling.

"I wonder what other doors you can open in this house?" but Harry merely shrugged and hoped she'd drop it.  He really didn't feel like stumbling on any more strange surprises.  He was surprisingly eager to return to his book; he was amazed to discover how quickly he read when he was interested in the book.  He was starting to understand how Hermione, the eternal bookworm, did it.  Unfortunately, he wasn't very keen to have his friends find out about his apparation lessons with Lupin.  He didn't want to have to explain why he needed to learn.  So, he waited patiently and listened as Ron told him about their day at Diagon Alley.  

".it's really too bad you weren't up.  You have got to see Fred and George's shop!  It was raking it in!  They offered Ginny wages if she'd stay and help them check people out!  We saw Neville there with his Gran.  Fred tried to offer her one of the old trick wands, but when it turned into a piece of raw meat, she practically chased him from his own store!  It was awesome...!"

Hermione had already cracked open one of her new books, and Harry noticed with surprise that it was a subject he'd never heard of.

"_Magical Healing and Remedies_?" he read curiously, "Since when do you take that class?" Hermione gave him an annoyed look before returning to the book.

"Since this year.  It's the elective I chose.  I wanted to choose the Magical Arts and Music one as well but Professor McGonagall wrote back and said that I have too many classes already," she said matter-of-factly.  "Ron went in for the Muggle Studies elective, which I think will be very good for him." She looked up at Harry again and asked, 'What elective did you chose?"

"Er.I forget." He shrugged quickly and tried to turn away, but Hermione set down her book and looked at him suspiciously.

"Harry, did you get your O.W.L. results?"

"Of course he did, Hermione!  Give him a break!" Ron turned from Hermione to Harry, "She just wants you to ask her how many O.W.L.s she got," he said looking disgruntled.

"I was just wondering how Harry did, Ron!"  She gave Ron a disdainful look.  For once, Harry was hoping they'd get into an argument and forget all about him in the process.  He had no interest in his O.W.L.s results, though he wasn't over eager to explain to Hermione.  He didn't think she'd be too supportive of his decision not to go back to Hogwarts.  Unfortunately, Hermione was not to be distracted, and she managed to end her argument with Ron surprisingly quickly.  "So, Harry, how did you do?"

"Umm." he had no idea what to tell her.  He had forgotten all about his O.W.L.s.  "I don't know," he finally confessed, "I forget," he added weakly, trying not to meet her eye.

"How can you forget how you did on your O.W.L.s?" Hermione exclaimed.  Ron muttered something under his breath, but Hermione wasn't listening.  "Well, why don't you look at them again then?  You'll have to remember if you want to buy your new books."

"I don't know where I put them." Harry began, but already he knew he had lost; Hermione strode over to his trunk and began shuffling around, throwing things out as she went.

"Honestly!" Ron whispered as he and Harry watched her nearly rip the trunk apart as she searched.  "She's obsessed!"  Harry tried to get her to stop, but she ignored his protests.  Within a few minutes, she had successfully emptied the entire trunk and was going through the contents again.  

Then, to Harry's displeasure, she gave a little shout, "Ah!  I think I've found them."  She paused for a moment and then rounded on Harry.  "You didn't even look at them?  I should have known.  Don't you even care about your scores?"  Harry was on the verge of telling her 'No' when she pushed the crumpled envelope into his hand.  "Here.  Open it."

Harry glared at her for a moment before ripping the envelope open.  He jerkily pulled the enclosed pages out, and without so much as glancing at them, he threw them to the floor.

"There.  Happy?" he asked calmly, and before Hermione recovered from her shock, he walked swiftly across the room and opened the closet door.  He shut it carefully behind him before sighing heavily.  It was going to be harder than he expected to keep the truth from his friends.  But as much as he hated keeping it from them, he didn't want to see their reactions when he told them the prophecy.

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches.born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies.and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not.  And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.the one with the power to vanquish the dark lord will be born as the seventh month dies._

'No,' Harry told himself, "I can't tell them.  Not yet."  But Harry knew that sooner or later they'd find out.  They'd wonder why Harry had secretly learned to apparate.  And if he did in fact join the Order of the Phoenix, they were sure to suspect something then.  He wouldn't be able to hide it from them forever.  The way things were going, they would have to be told sooner, rather than later; how else could Harry explain his reasons for not wanted to go back to school with them?  

He dropped his head into his hands as he slid his back down the wall, and he wished vaguely that he had thought to grab the apparation book.  This was shaping up to be a long night.


	8. Behind Closed Doors

Chapter 8: Behind Closed Doors 

As the chill of evening fell over the quiet homes of Knoll's Village, the atmosphere in the study was warm and comfortable, and Albus Dumbledore gazed serenely into a bright, crackling fire.  The other person in the room, however, looked anything but serene, and the look he was aiming at the headmaster was anything but warm.  Presently, Albus turned his attention to his disgruntled companion, and spoke softly.

"You know, Severus, it isn't really all that bad is it?  After all, it means less work for you."  Severus Snape gave Dumbledore a look of angry disbelief.

"Less work?" he repeated dangerously, "I've spent the last month working on that potion!  And for what?  A complete waste of my time for that ungrateful child."  

Albus listened politely, but there seemed to be a twinkle of amusement in his eye as he waited for Snape to finish.  

"Really, Severus!  He's not a child anymore; he is sixteen years old!  And don't try to tell me that you wasted your time with that potion.  I know better than anyone how much you enjoy working on things of that nature.  And it certainly hasn't been a waste; we'll almost certainly need it sooner or later for someone."  Dumbledore turned back to the fire and seemed almost to be addressing the flames as he spoke again, "I wonder if we should have expected this from Harry in the first place…"

"Hmm.  I think not," Severus replied shortly, "I've never seen anything like it.  He's completely blocked off his consciousness!  Even _I_ cannot create a protection so complete after years of study!  No, I certainly would not expect this from Potter; he was hopeless last year."

"Well, after all he's been through recently, he certainly has good reason to close himself off."  Dumbledore looked sad for a moment, but sighed as he turned back to Snape.  "Ah well!  This is, nonetheless, good news.  Thank you for your help, Severus, and I am deeply sorry about the headache.  I'm sure he didn't mean it."  Snape narrowed his eyes considerably as Dumbledore tried to keep from smiling.  Then, with a swishing of his cloak, Snape stalked quickly to the door and was about to turn the handle when a knock was heard from the other side.  Snape opened the door slowly to find Remus Lupin leaning casually against the doorframe.

"Oh!  Hello, Severus!  Sorry to interrupt!  I just wanted to speak with Dumbledore for a moment but—" Lupin started to stroll back down the hallway, but Snape stopped him.

"No, I was just leaving, Lupin."  He gave Lupin a characteristic sneer and headed off in the other direction.  Lupin watched him go and then peeked into the cozy room to see Dumbledore looking at him pleasantly.

"Hello, Headmaster." Lupin said, "I was wondering if I might have a word with you…?"

"Certainly, Remus!  Please sit down." Dumbledore smiled and motioned to the empty chair across from him.  "What word did you want then?"  Remus looked confused for a moment, but then laughed a bit as he answered.

"Well, I have a few concerns…about Harry.  I talked to him earlier, and I'm worried about him.  He's not himself." Lupin hesitated for a moment, but the continued quietly, "It's too much, Albus.  I want to comfort him, but even if he would talk to me about…about Sirius," Lupin swallowed, "There's just too much going for him."  Dumbledore nodded gravely.

"I'm afraid I agree with you," the old wizard said, "I feel like we've placed too much on him.  Sirius' death has been hard on many of us, perhaps Harry most of all, but he now has the added burden of the prophecy.  I suppose the only thing we can do is watch him carefully and try to help him through."  Lupin nodded.

"Yes…maybe…but maybe there's another way we can help.  Right now, he seems so…desperate.  Dumbledore, he was asking me to modify his memory!  Already, he's made the connections about Snape's potion, and he wasn't pleased that Snape didn't give it to him.  I had a hard time convincing him that he was safe here without it; he was practically begging me to take him away, because he's worrying himself sick that he'll endanger his friends."  Lupin looked at Dumbledore seriously as he continued.  "You know, as much as he hates staying with his relatives, I believe he was ready to stay there for…who knows how long!  He looked terrified when we showed up there." Lupin paused when Dumbledore looked up at him wearily and spoke.

"I think he'd be willing to sacrifice all that he has to avoid feeling any more guilt.  He blames himself for so much already."  Lupin shook his head and went on.

"I can imagine how he's feeling; so much responsibility, so much grief, and no idea how to react.  He's prepared to face his fate, but he doesn't know how.  He needs to be ready.  He needs to know what is going on, and right now he's completely in the dark.  I think it's time to stop sheltering him."  Lupin paused briefly and gave Dumbledore a meaningful look.  "I think we should let him join the Order."  

The room was silent for the next few minutes.  Both men sat looking at each other, as if in silent communication.  Finally, Dumbledore broke the silence.

"Molly Weasley is not going to like this."

*****

Harry awoke from a dream with a jolt.  He looked around for a moment, slightly disoriented, but then remembered where he was.  He sighed in relief when he realized that he was in the cozy room in Potter Cottage; his dream had seemed too real, but thankfully, it wasn't one of the nightmarish visions he sometimes had.  Clumsily, he dragged himself off the floor and headed to the door.  He paused to listen at the door, but heard no sounds from the other room.  

'Good,' he thought, 'Maybe Ron and Hermione went downstairs.'  After the way he'd acted earlier, he was not eager to confront his friends.  He felt terrible for the way he'd snapped at Hermione.  After all, he shouldn't expect her to understand how he felt.  She was only trying to help, though perhaps she'd do better if she were slightly less bossy.  And Ron, well, Ron hadn't done anything wrong.  As usual, Harry realized too late what a jerk he'd been. 

A rotten feeling settled in his stomach as he pushed his way through to the other room.  He was in the middle of wondering whether he might be better off just going back to sleep, when he found himself looking straight at Hermione. He stopped dead in his tracks as he stared at her.

"I…I… Hermione…" he stuttered uncertainly.  He couldn't seem to find any words.

"Harry, it's okay…" Hermione muttered quietly, seeing the anxious look on his face.  But Harry looked up sharply, suddenly finding his voice again.

"No.  It's not okay.  I'm sorry Hermione.  I've been acting like a total prat."  Hermione shook her head, but said nothing.  Harry noticed suddenly that they weren't alone; Ron was sitting by the fire, watching silently.  "Both of you," Harry continued, "I'm sorry about lashing out at you like that, and last year…you guys haven't done anything but help me…" he stopped, unsure what to say next, and not trusting his voice to remain steady.  Luckily, Ron chose this moment to pipe up.

"Don't worry about it, Harry.  It's already forgotten, honest."  He grinned at Harry.

"Thanks you guys, I feel really awful about it all and —" he was cut off by sharp sob from Hermione.

"Oh, Harry!" she had him locked in a tight hug before he even had time to think, "Stop apologizing!" her words were muffled by tears, "It's _okay_! We understand…but thanks."  It seemed that she wasn't going to let go anytime soon, and Harry was starting to worry, but just then Ron came to his rescue.  

"Come on, Hermione…you want Harry to drown?"  Ron grinned as he spoke, but Harry was surprised at how gentle Ron was as he carefully pried Hermione's hands away from Harry's neck.  Then, it was Ron's turn to be surprised, as Hermione turned and clung to him instead.  Ron was speechless as he stared, open-mouthed, at Harry.  Eventually, Hermione released Ron, and with a few final sniffles, dried her eyes.

"I'm s-sorry…" she managed to breath.  "I just hate it when we argue!"  But she gave them both a quick smile before she walked back to a chair by the fire.  Harry was just thinking how glad he was that Hermione didn't mention the O.W.L.s again, when Ron turned to him with a quizzical look and whispered, "So what's the deal with your O.W.L.s?  Not looking forward to seeing your results or —" he stopped short, "What's wrong mate?"

Yet again, Harry felt a familiar feeling of despair forming in his chest.  He would have to tell them eventually; they were bound to notice when he didn't show up in the Hogwarts Express.  So, feeling that now was as good as ever, he took a deep breath and prepared for the worst.

"I'm not going back to school," he said firmly.  Ron looked at him dumbly and Hermione whipped around to face him.

"_What_?  Why?"  Hermione demanded.  Ron continued to stare at him.

"I just can't go back, okay?  That's why I don't care about the stupid O.W.L.s!  It doesn't matter anymore.  I'm never going back to Hogwarts."

"But……._why_?  What happened?  Were you expelled?  Why didn't Dad tell us?"  Ron seemed to have recovered from his shock.  Harry sighed.  He'd expected this sort of reaction.

"No, I wasn't expelled.  I.  Just. Can't. Go.  Okay?"

"Harry," Hermione pleaded, "Please just think logically about this.  You just have to go back.  And if you don't……what are you going to do?  Stay here alone…?"

"I _am _thinking logically, Hermione!  Believe me.  And yeah, why shouldn't I stay here?  I'd rather be alone than —" he stopped.  Hermione was looking at him expectantly.

"Rather than what?" she asked slowly.  

"…Rather than get everyone killed!" Harry stated bluntly.  He tried to avoid the looks he was getting from both of them, but he had to admit, it felt good to say it aloud.  He continued without looking up, "I just don't want anybody else to get hurt."  The silence that followed his words was almost deafening.  He looked up to find both friends looking at him sadly.  He hated those looks, but he had expected them.  

They could not understand.  Harry hadn't told the about the prophecy.  He didn't want them to get involved in it; it was too dangerous.  The less they knew the better.

"Harry, what is this all about?" Hermione asked, looking upset, "What are you talking about — 'getting everyone killed'?  You aren't going to get anyone killed…"  Harry gave a short, mirthless laugh and sat down heavily on his bed.

"Oh, really?" He challenged.  How could she just overlook Sirius' death?  And Cedric's?  "Hermione, please….please just listen to me:  I am not a safe person to be close to.  I think that's been made very clear already…."

Hermione was deeply distressed, and Ron's face was frozen in an expression of shock and concern.  The room was once again very still, but it seemed almost to buzz with tense energy.  However, to Harry's relief, they were unexpectedly interrupted by a sudden knock at the door.

"Hermione!  Boys!  Dinner is ready!"  Mrs. Weasley entered looking flustered.  "Come on now!  I don't want to keep them all waiting!  There's an Order meeting afterwards and — what's this?  Oh!  Harry, dear!  You've left your O.W.L. results lying here…"  She had unwittingly picked up his crumpled letter, and as she realized what it was she handed to him.  She glanced absently at the page as she held it, and to Harry's surprise, uttered a shrill cry, "Oh my!  Congratulations, dear!  Six O's!  How lovely…I suppose I'll go collect your new books for you tomorrow shall I?  But right now — dinner!"  She handed the letter to Harry and ushered the three of the out of the room.

Harry's curiosity about the results was sparked, but he stuffed the letter into his jeans pocket without delay, telling himself that knowing his scores would only make him want to go back to school, and his resolve was already breaking down.  He caught Ron and Hermione looking curiously at the pocket, but chose to ignore them.  When they reached the crowded dining room, Hermione went immediately to speak with Professor McGonagall, who was obviously there for the meeting.  Harry, meanwhile, was nearly knocked over by a pair of red-headed twins as they rushed over to say hello.

"Harry!  How've you been, mate?"  George thumped his back in a brotherly way, as Fred cuffed his arm jovially.

"Smashing to see you, Harry!" Fred cried, doing his best impression of their older brother, Percy.

"Lucky Mum didn't hear that," Ron warned.  Percy had recently become a forbidden subject in the Weasley household.  He was the one Weasley that Harry did not enjoy being around, as he had always been rather haughty.  Then, last year, he'd upset the happiness of the entire Weasley family.  When the Ministry of Magic refused to believe in the return of the Dark Lord, Percy, who worked at the Ministry, had tired his best to separate himself from the Weasley name; he wanted to make it completely clear that he had nothing to do with the rest of the Weasley's, who were openly working against the Dark Lord's return.

'What's up with Percy, anyway?"  Harry asked Ron, as they all sat down at the table.

"Oh, he still hasn't spoken with any of us since last year…I think he's embarrassed, seeing as how now even the Ministry knows the truth about You-Know-Who."

"Well, he spoke to us today," Fred said with a wicked grin, "'Course, I can't repeat what he said.  He's got quite a mouth, Percy." His comment was followed by a spurt of laughter from Ginny as she sat down to join them.

"Not that you two didn't deserve what he said!" she pointed out, "You all should've seen the prank they pulled on him!"  The twins and Ginny broke into fits of laughter and began to explain how they'd embarrassed Percy earlier.  

"Well, evidently," George explained, "Percy was out for a bit of shopping.  And we thought, since he was all fancy in his dress robes and had a few Ministry workers with him, we'd give them a little fun."

"So, with the help of some of our patrons — delightful little chaps, just starting at Hogwarts this year—we managed to plant a few of our…iproducts/i…on Percy's person…"

"A few wads of Floating Gumball here…"

"A sprinkle of Sinking Powder there…"  
  


"And the next thing you know, Percy has fallen head-over-heals in love with _Weasleys__' Wizard Wheezes'_ newest line of trick sweets!"

"You mean he fell _into _a barrel of your sweets!" Ginny chuckled, "But the best part is," she said turning to Ron and Harry, "They'd charmed his pants as well.  So there's Percy, hovering upside down with his face buried in Slobber Sweets, and his robes fall down to reveal —"

"A lovely pair of ruffled, pink trousers!"  Fred finished, "It was just like old times!"

"Except Mum wasn't there to stick up for him," George pointed out, "Anyways, it was marvelous advertising; we sold out of the Slobber Sweets _and _the Floating Gumballs."  By this time, Ron was snorting into his soup, and Harry couldn't help but grin.

The rest of the dinner went as usual.  Harry felt Sirius' absence more than ever as he gazed around at the familiar faces.  Gladly, there was so much talking and chatter around the huge table, that Harry was able to easily avoid any serious conversations.  Instead, he sat quietly, listening to the talk going on all around him.  Many people were gossiping and chatting happily, but others seemed more serious.  Mad-Eye Moody was deep in conversation with Ron's father and a witch Harry knew to be Hestia Jones.  Nearby, Hermione seemed to be listening intently as Professor McGonagall discussed transfigurations gone wrong.  Mrs. Weasley was teasing Bill and Charley good-naturedly, while Ron, Ginny, and the twins conspired next to Harry.  

Harry was feeling much more comfortable than he had last night, and found that he didn't feel the need to check over his shoulder every few minutes.  However, he became decidedly less comfortable when he noticed the cold glare he was receiving from Snape.  The bat-like professor was evidently not very interested in his conversation with Tonks, because Harry noticed that he kept turning away to throw dirty looks at Harry's end of the table.  Harry finally gave up on trying to figure out what he had done to deserve the looks, and tried just to ignore them.  He looked instead at Lupin, and was surprised to see Professor Dumbledore next to him, talking quietly.  He tried to discern what they were saying, but looked away quickly after Dumbledore turned to him with a secretive smile.  

Suddenly, he realized that there was someone missing from the scene.  Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures professor, was nowhere to be found, and he was hard to miss in a crowd, being half giant.  Harry wondered where Hagrid was; last year, Hagrid hadn't been at any of the Order meetings because he'd been off traveling, trying to get support from the giants.  

"Ron, has Hagrid been coming around at all to any of the meetings?"  Ron turned around with a smile, but the smile gradually melted as he too looked around the table.

"No…" he said slowly, "He hasn't.  And now that you mention it, I haven't heard anything from him at all this summer."

"Me neither," Harry admitted, "I hope he's alright."  Ron nodded thoughtfully, but then turned back to the twins.  

Harry was just beginning to wonder how much longer this would last, when Mrs. Weasley stood up and everyone quieted down.

"Alright!" she said pleasantly, "It's time for all you children to move upstairs and get ready for bed.  No complaints this time _please_."  She aimed a dangerous look at Ron.  Slowly, Ron and Ginny pulled themselves away from the table along with Harry.  Hermione got up as well and together they began to trudge out into the hallway.   They were beginning to climb the stairs when someone called out.

"Harry, I'd like a word with you if you don't mind."  It was Dumbledore.  With a bewildered look at the others, Harry turned around and went over to the headmaster.  Once it was clear that Ron, Ginny, and Hermione had at last made it up the stairs and out of hearing range, Dumbledore spoke.

"It's nice to see you, Harry," he began kindly. "I spoke to Remus earlier this evening, and I wanted to speak with you about something — an opportunity that would not normally be available to someone your age...?"

"Joining the Order?" Harry asked quickly.  He was suddenly much more interested in this discussion.

"Yes, joining the Order.  Remus brought the idea to my attention, though I suspect you had something to do with it…?"  Harry nodded silently.  "Well, as I told Remus, I also feel that it would be in your best interest to know what is going on in the Order, so I have decided to offer you a place in our ranks, if you are interested."  

Harry didn't know what to say, and after some vigorous nodding, he finally managed to blurt out a quick, "Yes, sir!"  

"Well then, I'm pleased to welcome the newest member of the Order of the Phoenix."  Dumbledore turned to reenter the crowded dining room, but stopped as Harry burst out.

"But Professor!  Remus said….I'd have to be able to apparate, and you know I can't join until…until I learn occlumency…" He dropped his head, thinking hopelessly of how long it would be before he'd mastered the skills.

"Actually Harry, I think you should join us immediately.  I'm fairly certain that you won't need to apparate anywhere tonight, and as for the occlumency…perhaps you and I will discuss that later.  In the mean time, I promise you that you're quite secure here."  Without another word, Dumbledore swept Harry into the room, and with a solid 'thump' the heavy oak door swung shut behind them both.


	9. The Meeting

Chapter 9:  Behind Closed Doors

If Harry had thought dinner was rather noisy, then the Order meeting was positively chaotic in comparison.  It was as if the members had been carefully restraining themselves for the last hour, and were now trying frantically to make up for the lost time.  Harry was surprised that he and his friends hadn't had better luck eavesdropping on the past meetings; it seemed impossible that the hubbub of the group wasn't carrying up to the bedrooms.  On the other hand, so much was going on at once, that it was quite difficult to make out any one conversation in particular.

He was thankful for the commotion, however, because it allowed him to remain unnoticed as he tried to adapt to the surroundings.  The room seemed utterly changed.  The lights had been dimmed significantly and the dining table, once covered in a myriad of platters and dishes, was now empty, save for a few elbows and drumming fingers.  The members of the Order, who had evidently switched seats after the meal, were gradually settling down again.  Harry noticed that the nearest empty chair, which was at the very end of the room, was pushed back from the table.  He slowly lowered himself into the chair, trying not to draw any attention to himself.  Luckily, nearly all of the faces were now turned eagerly towards the far end of the table, where Professor Dumbledore was sitting quietly.  Within seconds, all of the agitated voices had been silenced and Dumbledore cleared his throat decisively.

"Welcome, and thank you all for coming.  Before we begin, I must once again thank Molly Weasley for an excellent meal!  And now, to business!

"We have several matters to discuss tonight, and some of our number have requested a chance to speak, so I'd like to start with an update from our Special Alliances agents.  Remus?  Would you like to start?"

"Really, it all hangs on Fudge," Lupin explained as he leaned forward.  "Almost everyone I've spoken with seems quite agreeable.  If the Ministry is willing to get rid of the restrictions and introduce some werewolf rights legislation in the International Magic Confederation, we are guaranteed the support of the European Werewolf Alliance.  Toulouse Guillaume even hinted that he has some influence with the Werewolf Union of America..."  

As Lupin continued, Harry was surprised yet again to discover how much he didn't know about the wizarding world.  It had never occurred to him that other countries must have some form of government for their magical communities.  Indeed, he hadn't spent much time thinking about foreign wizards at all, but now that their world was threatened, it made perfect sense that countries would team up against the common enemy.

Lupin's report was followed by reports from Bill and Charlie Weasley.  Bill gave an update on his communications with the goblins of Gringott's Wizard Bank.  Harry came to understand that the goblins, who had at last agreed to join forces with the wizards, were currently working on defense and protection projects, though Bill did not elaborate on what these 'projects' might be.  Charlie, Harry learned, had arrived from Romania this morning to make his report.  Though he spent the majority of his time there working with dragons, he had also been acting as a sort of ambassador.

"I was able to meet with some representatives from the region," he told them, "And I'm happy to say that the Eastern European Magical Council has agreed to form an alliance."  There were nods of approval around the table as Charlie continued.  "The councilor is waiting to meet with you, Sir."  He addressed himself to Dumbledore, who nodded seriously.

"Thank you, I'll contact Mr. Bezeanu at once.  Now, before we go on, I'd like to make a few reports of my own.  First of all, I'd like to assure you that Hagrid is doing well, and he asked me to give you the good news: The giants have chosen to join us."  At his words, several people gasped quietly, while others seemed to sigh with relief.  Harry, for his part, was more interested in what had become of Hagrid.  What did Dumbledore mean 'doing well?' 

Dumbledore went on to inform them that, unfortunately, the Centaurs were as hostile as ever, and were refusing to have anything to do with humans.  The Merpeople, however, were more than willing to help in any way they could.  "So," Dumbledore said, "We're doing rather well, I'd say, as far as gaining support goes.  What news do we have on the Intelligence front?"  

The meeting continued this way for quite some time; members took turns sharing their information, while the rest sat quietly listening.  Kingsley Shacklebolt brought the Order up to date on his Ministry assignment to locate Bellatrix Lestrange, who was wanted for Sirius' murder.  Tonks spoke next, revealing her recent appointment to the Ministry's Covert Operations, where she was working _in cognito_ to gather evidence against suspected Death Eaters.  

Finally, the discussion made its way around the table to Snape, who was sitting to Dumbledore's left.  The greasy Potions professor hesitated a bit, as the Order members shifted restlessly in their seats.  To Harry, it seemed like this report was the one the group waited for with the most anticipation, and he realized suddenly that he too was anxious to hear it.  Wasn't Snape spying on Voldemort's meetings for the Order?  If anyone knew what Harry needed to know, it was Snape.  And so, the young man sat with bated breath as he waited for the professor to start.

"A meeting was called nearly a week ago," Snape began in a low voice, "It was rather typical, but again, I thought it best to replay certain portions of it for the Order.  I believe some of the information might be of use…" He glanced pointedly at Shacklebolt, and then lifted a small pensieve to the table.  Harry was on the edge of his seat as Dumbledore twirled his wand over the contents of the vessel.  Then, to his surprise, he heard an eerily familiar voice break the tense silence of the room.  Voldemort.

_"…Because of that old fool,"_ the voice said, _"I'm forced to get the prophecy from another source.  However, they've managed to block my connections with the boy for the time being, and I must take measures to get the information directly from the source. Lucius, you know my wishes on the subject of Hogwarts.  You will set to work immediately!"_

_"Yes, My Lord!"_

_"And I've had word from Lestrange that she will be returning shortly.  It seems that the Ministry's efforts have been in vain; they haven't managed to locate her, so she's able to return to the family home.  Goyle, Nott!  You will be aiding her in her work there._

_"Wormtail, summon Nagini!  I have other instructions for her."_  Within seconds, Harry could hear the arrival of the Dark Lord's serpentine assistant.  He listened attentively as Voldemort began to speak to the snake in harsh tones, but almost immediately, the dialogue was cut short and Snape began to speak again.

"Basically, that was all I got.  The meeting ended shortly after the reptile left.  However, I thought Shacklebolt might be interested in that infor—" Snape looked up suddenly as Harry threw himself forward in his chair, causing the table to shudder slightly.

"Professor!  Please…" Harry hesitated as he received a cold glare from Snape, but he swallowed and turned to Dumbledore, "Maybe I can…if I could just listen to the rest of the meeting I could…I could translate…"  He noted with displeasure that all eyes were now on him, and Snape was not the only one looking angry.  Mrs. Weasley had nearly fallen out of her seat when she realized that Harry was sitting beside her; she hadn't turned to face him until he spoke, but at his outburst, she had whipped around immediately with a furious look in her eyes.

"_Meeting!__  Harry James Potter!_  What in the _world_ are you doing in this meeting?  You were told very clearly to get upstairs and—" Harry shrunk back in his chair, wincing as the irate woman's face grew steadily more red, but to his immense relief, Dumbledore cut her off.

"Molly, I'm sorry I didn't mention it immediately, but I've given Harry permission to join the Order."  Mrs. Weasley was staring at him as if she was about to be sick, but he seemed not to notice and continued on, "Considering the current situation, I believe that it is in everyone's best interest that he is fully aware of the facts." 

"Albus!  He's too young!" she argued desperately, but the old man only nodded sadly.

"I agree, but it is vital that he know what is going on, and I have a suspicion that he might be a very useful member."  He turned his eyes to Harry, who spoke without even thinking.

"I am _not_ too young," he said quietly.

"You are certainly too young for this," Dumbledore said, "And so are all the rest of us.  Now, Harry, do you think you could translate Voldemort's…_conversation_ for us?"  Harry merely nodded, and so Dumbledore turned back the pensieve.  He seemed to ponder it for a moment, before swishing his wand over it for the second time.

_"… summon Nagini!  I have other instructions for her."_  Everyone was watching Harry, but he hardly noticed, as he perked up his ears and waited to hear the all-too-familiar voices.

_"Nagini, my pet!__  I have work for you."_

_"My greatest wish is to serve, My Lord."_

_"My greatest wish, Nagini, is to get to Harry Potter."_  Harry could hear the anger in his voice, and was barely able to repress a shudder.  _"I wish for you to go to Hogwarts.  Report back to me with every shred of information you can collect on the little brat.  Find out who he loves.  I will destroy them.  Find out who he hates.  I can use them.  Discover his deepest fears and his loftiest dreams.  Find his weakness, Nagini, and then return here to me!  If I can't get to Harry Potter, I will make him come to me."_

The speaking stopped, but Harry remained staring blankly at the pensieve, unable to move.  His world was crushing around him for what seemed like the hundredth time.  He had expected Voldemort to take advantage of him, to bait him, to use his friends and loved ones as playing pieces in his twisted games, but to hear it directly left Harry in a breathless panic.  He felt like an empty shell, his heart had dropped away.  But finally, he managed to pull himself together enough to look up at Dumbledore stonily.  

"What did you hear?" the old man inquired gently, and though his throat felt dry, Harry tried to answer.

"He told…Nagini…to come to Hogwarts and…and told her to…" Harry felt a torrent of anger rise up inside him, and he gripped the table fiercely, trying to keep his anger from surfacing.

"Nagini?" Lupin asked softly, looking quizzically at Snape, who looked equally confused.

"The snake,"  Harry answered sharply.  'Why am I so angry?' he asked himself, but almost immediately he answered himself again, 'All Voldemort wants to do is destroy you and everything you care about—starting with the people you love!  No reason to get upset, is it?'

"Harry," Dumbledore began, pulling Harry away from his thoughts, "Can you repeat what was said?"  Harry nodded.  He would have no trouble remembering those words—ever.  So, he took a few calming breaths and began to echo the dialogue.

"My greatest wish, Nagini—" Harry stopped almost immediately as he caught the looks of the people all around him.

"In English, Harry,"  Tonks instructed softly.  But when Harry tried again, he was still unable to repeat the conversation in anything but Parseltongue—snake language.  He was ready to give up when suddenly a pad of paper and a quill slid towards him.  He looked up to see George Weasley with his usual grin on.

Without a word, Harry took the quill and began to write, word-for-word, what he had heard.  He tried to ignore his silent, ever-watching audience, but felt his blood rush to his face as he hurriedly scrawled the haunting words.  When he had finished he threw the quill down and slid the pad down the table.  It stopped abruptly in front of Professor Dumbledore.  The headmaster wrinkled his brow as he picked up the pad and began to read.

Around the table, the eyes of the listeners grew wide.  Harry blocked out the words, trying frantically to keep himself from exploding with anger.  'How _dare_ he threaten my family!' Harry found himself thinking, "If he so much as _charms_ even one of them, he will pay!'  He shook himself mentally, and wondered how in the world he was planning on repaying the Dark Lord.  Then, once again, he was brought back to reality by the sound of Dumbledore's voice.

"We must address this at once.  We are fortunate to have heard this conversation.  Now we can prepare to defend against this intrusion."  He turned to Professors McGonagall and Snape, "I will meet with you both later to discuss strengthening the protections on Hogwarts, and perhaps we can get the assistance of our friends from Gringott's.  It sounds as though Voldemort has already made plans with Lucius Malfoy to infiltrate the school."  Dumbledore proceeded to go around the table, making requests and arrangements with several Order members.  One-by-one, each person silently accepted their orders, until finally, Dumbledore's gaze rested on Harry.

"Mr. Potter, I wish for you to lead a select group of students in defensive skills.  I seem to recall you having a small club—the D.A.?  I think it is a good idea to set up a system of defense.  You will teach and supervise several students from each house, who will in turn assist the remaining members of their house."  

Harry stared at Dumbledore for a moment, wondering how the headmaster could expect him to return to Hogwarts after hearing what would happen.  However, Harry could not bring himself to decline, and so he gave in at last and nodded numbly.  Looking satisfied, Dumbledore turned back to the group and closed the meeting.

"…and I will inform you all of the next meeting.  Take care and see you all then!  Thank you."  The members began rising slowly, some murmuring quietly, but most stayed as silent as Harry.  He noticed Mrs. Weasley turn towards him, but he hurried quickly from the room, fearing another reprimand.  As he walked through the doorway, he was stopped by a hand and he looked up to see Remus Lupin.

"Hold up a bit, Harry," Lupin said, "I wanted to tell you something."  As he spoke, Fred and George walked by and hesitated slightly.

"We're staying up with you and Ron…" Fred offered, "If you're going up…"

"I'll walk him up in a second, Fred," Lupin assured him, and so the twins walked on through, leaving Harry alone with Lupin.  "Harry, maybe I shouldn't have asked Dumbledore to let you join—"

"No," Harry blurted, "No, I'm glad he let me come tonight.  Thank you."

"Well…I just think, maybe it was a bit much tonight…" but Harry shook his head wearily.

"No, really," he insisted, "I was expecting to deal with that anyway, I just…didn't want to believe it."  Lupin nodded quietly.  "Anyways," Harry continued, "How is it that I could join so soon in the first place?  I thought you said I had to have a license to apparate and occlumency…"

"Well, as far as the apparation goes, you can't apparate in this house anyways.  And as for the occlumency bit, it turns out you don't need the lessons anymore.  That's why Snape didn't use the potion; you have already completely guarded your mind."  Harry was at a loss for words.  What did he mean?  He had been terrible at occlumency! 

"Remus…what…how…?"  Lupin shrugged in response to Harry's surprised expression.

"Come on," he said, "I want to get to bed."  He threw his arm over Harry's shoulders as he led his towards the stairs, and though Harry felt the weight of his friend, he couldn't help noticing that it made him feel somehow lighter at the same time.  Wordlessly, they made their way upstairs and Lupin bid Harry goodnight.  

Harry robotically went through the motions of changing and finally collapsed into his bed.  He lay there for a long time, staring at the dark ceiling and listening to Ron's snores, but he had no idea how late it was when his eyes finally shut and he fell into a restless slumber. 


	10. Questions and Answers

Chapter 10:  Questions and Answers 

Harry awoke with a gasp.  Hurling himself out of bed, he stared uneasily into the darkness, unsure what he was searching for, but feeling a familiar panic overtake him.  What was it that had woken him so abruptly?  Harry wracked his brains, trying to remember.  Then, like a flash of lightening, the memory came to him: A hiss in the darkness!  Frantically, Harry surveyed the room, but as his eyes came to rest on the sleeping form of Ron, he realized his mistake.  Ron's usual snore had evidently mutated into a slow, hissing breath, as the red-headed boy lay sprawled awkwardly across the bed.  Harry sighed with relief, faintly annoyed with himself for his panic.  

Stepping to the window, he pulled the curtains open in a weak attempt to chase away his unease along with the darkness of the room.  Unfortunately, the early morning didn't offer much light; rain fell in a slow, steady drizzle and clouds pushed grumpily across the pale sun.  Sighing heavily, Harry turned to his trunk and pulled on some clothes.

Unexpectedly, his eye fell on a few crumpled papers that stuck out of his jeans from yesterday; his O.W.L.s.   He reached for the pages automatically.  If Dumbledore was making it impossible for him to avoid school, he might as well see what N.E.W.T. classes he was enrolled in.  Harry had to admit to himself that he was very eager to find out what his scores were, even if he wasn't thrilled at the prospect of attending the classes.

He unfolded the pages carefully, selected the one on top, and smoothed it out on his lap.  

_To Mr. Harry Potter,_

_We are pleased to present you with your Ordinary Wizarding Level examination results.  Your scores are based on your performance in both written and practical exams in all subjects addressed in your training.  Your results are as follows:_

_"Outstanding" marks were earned in:_

**_Care of Magical Creatures_**

**_Charms_**

**_Defense Against The Dark Arts_**

**_Herbology_****__**

**_Potions_**

**_Transfiguration_**

_"Exceeds Expectations" marks were earned in:_

**_No subjects_**__

_"Acceptable" marks were earned in:_

**_Astronomy_**

**_Divination_**

_"Poor" marks were earned in:_

**_History of Magic_**

_If there are any questions regarding the Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations or scoring, please feel free to contact the Department of Magical Education.  _

_Best Wishes,_

_Griselda Marchbanks, Head_

_Wizarding__ Examinations Authority_

With a sense of shock, Harry frowned down at the page.  _Six_ "Outstandings"?  _Six N.E.W.T. classes_?  His mind whirled at the thought of all the studying—all the _homework_—that would accompany those classes.  And _how_ in Merlin's name had he managed to get an "Outstanding" potions score?  Harry was numb with disbelief.  He sat silently, unmoving, but he was startled a moment later by the sound of rustling bedclothes. 

"'Morning, mate," Ron yawned.  

"Good morning," Harry replied tonelessly, forcing himself to look up at his friend.  Ron seemed to jolt completely awake as he caught the look on Harry's face.

"What's up?  What's wrong….ah…"  Realization dawned on Ron's face as Harry passed him the parchment.  "Blimey, Harry!  You really did get six O's!  Hermione will be pleased—wait!  Potions?  Harry, how….?"  Ron's eyes were wide with surprise, but Harry only shrugged in return.  "Oh, well!  I guess you get to hang out with Snape for a bit longer.  I can't say I envy you, but six O's is good.  I only got four.  Mum was alright though, 'cause I got into six N.E.W.T. subjects, not to mention Muggle Studies."

"Muggle Studies?"  Harry asked, only vaguely remembering his conversation with Hermione from the day before.

"Yeah.  It's an elective, but I didn't have much choice.  I mean, it was that or Magical Arts and Music, the rest looked dreadful!"  
  


"Wait!  I thought Hermione was doing Healing or something?"

"Right!  Me take Magical Healing!  The fact that Hermione's taking it should be a good indication of how difficult it is.  No way.  Muggle Studies for me.  It should be a breeze, considering my two best friends grew up as muggles, and my own dad thinks he is one!"  Ron grinned and jumped out of bed, looking at Harry, "What are you gonna choose?"

"Er…I don't know.  Where did you look to see the choices?"  

Ron gave raised an eyebrow and answered with a smirk, "You could try your Hogwart's letter."  Harry felt like an idiot.

"Oh, right," he mumbled, reaching for the remaining letters.  Immediately, he recognized the rich emerald calligraphy of his Hogwarts letter.

_Dear Mr.Potter,_

_It is with the utmost pride that we welcome to back to another year of study at __Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  In light of your achievements on the Ordinary Wizarding Level Examinations, you are been accepted into the following N.E.W.T. level courses:_

_Care of Magical Creatures_

_Charms_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts_

_Herbology___

_Potions_

_Transfiguration_

_All students are asked to enroll in at least five courses.  Those students who are not eligible for five N.E.W.T. level courses are encouraged to choose from the following list of elective subjects:_

_Accelerated Muggle Studies for Beginners_

_Foreign Policy in the Magical World_

_Individualized History of Magic_

_International Studies and Languages_

_Introduction to Magical Healing_

_Magical Arts and Music_

_Students may elect to enroll in more than five courses, and in fact, are strongly encouraged to plan a well-rounded curriculum.  The enclosed booklist includes those needed for each elective choice.  If you have any questions or concerns, please notify the staff prior to August 31st_.

Harry didn't bother to finish the letter, which went on to say exactly when and where he could catch the train to get back to school.  Instead, Harry looked back to the list of elective courses.  Was he expected to choose one of _those_?  He crumpled the parchment and threw it aside in disgust, earning himself a surprised look from Ron, and a string of mumbled complaints from Fred, who had been woken by when the ball of heavy parchment hit his nose.

"Oi! Harry!  You wanna watch what you're doing?  What is this anyw—Merlin, Harry!  Eight O.W.L.s?  _Six_ O's?"  Fred had unwrinkled the parchment and sat staring at it, with a look of distaste.  "Hey, George!"  Fred flung a pillow at the pile of blankets in the next bed.

"Hmm?  What the—" George pulled the blankets away from his face, only to be attacked by the parchment as Fred magicked it over to him.  For a moment, George struggled with the page, as it clung to his face determinedly, but he soon gave up and went straight for the source, reaching out with surprising accuracy and snatching Fred's wand from him.  With a little flick, he had removed the letter and began to read, shaking his head sadly, "Gosh, Harry, I would've never expected this from you…after all we've done for you?  You turn around and get six O's?  What next?  Head bo—Wait!  Quidditch captain?  Brilliant, Harry!"  The next second, Harry, Ron, and Fred were all huddled around the page.  

"Alright!  This'll be terrific, mate!"  Ron's grin looked ready to overtake his face as he turned to Harry.  

Shrugging, Harry answered, "I guess this means my Quidditch ban is off…"  He took the parchment back quietly and was about to throw it away when, suddenly, it was pulled out of his hand.  He turned to see Hermione as she settled on his bed, looking intently at the letter she had just grabbed.

"I guess this means you'll be coming back to school, as well," she stated happily.

"Well he'd have a hard time avoiding it wouldn't he?" pointed out a confused looking Fred, "What with Dumbledore's D.A. business and now Quidditch captain…"  He trailed off as Ron and Hermione turned to Harry with eager, questioning looks.

"What about D.A.?"

"So that's what Dumbledore wanted to talk to you about last night?  What took so long?  I fell asleep waiting for you!"

Harry frowned at Fred and George, who were obviously hurrying to get out of the room.  Fred was hastily pulling his pants and T-shirt on over his PJ's, trying to avoid eye contact with Harry, and George merely gave a nervous grin as he shuffled out of the room, still cocooned in his comforter.  "See you at breakfast, then!" they called, as they disappeared down the hall, leaving Harry alone with his two friends, who were still staring at him expectantly.

"So…Dumbledore wants me to run D.A. practices again…" he muttered weakly, hoping his friends would be satisfied with the answer.  Unfortunately, both Ron and Hermione were looking for a bit more detail.

"What?  He's hired another bloody awful Defense teacher?"

"What do the twins know about this?"  Hermione was looking at him suspiciously, and Harry realized he had some explaining to do.  Sooner or later they would find out that he'd become a member of the Order, and they were bound to notice to change when D.A. became an official defensive plan.  So, taking a deep breath, told them about joining the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's request.

"Basically," Harry finished, "He wants students to be prepared to protect themselves."

"But how is it that they let you join the Order?" Hermione asked, "I mean, there are reasons why underage wizards can't join.  Apparation, for one."  

"Probably 'cause he's The Spectacular Harry Potter, no?"  Ron sounded only slightly bitter.

"Well then, why didn't he let you join last year?  Frankly, it doesn't make any sense.  Why would he take you into the Order just to tell you to continue the D.A.? We do have a Defense Against the Darks Arts teacher, after all,"  Hermione reasoned, "No, there has to be some reason, otherwise, why not let us join too?"

"True.  After all, we've done a lot too…and we were on D.A. last year…"  Ron and Hermione both looked up to Harry, who was trying hard to look innocent and failing.  Hermione's words, along with something Fred had said made him think:  Why _had_ Dumbledore asked him to lead D.A.?  It wasn't as if someone else couldn't do it, the teacher for instance.  Harry was beginning have a sneaky suspicion that Dumbledore was trying his best to make sure him came back to Hogwarts.  After all, only last year, Dumbledore had purposely avoided giving Harry the responsibility of being a prefect; why, this year, was Harry suddenly capable of being captain of Quidditch _and_ running D.A.? 

"Harry," Hermione said shrilly, "What is this all about?  Why won't you tell us?" 

"You could at least tell us what happened in the meeting," Ron muttered, "You of all people should realize that it doesn't help anyone to keep the truth from them."  He was right, Harry had to admit.  Though he was loathe to tell Ron and Hermione about Nagini's mission, he knew that keeping it from them would not protect them from the danger.  Then again, telling Ron and Hermione about Voldemort's plans would almost certainly mean telling them about the prophecy, and he was just not ready for that.  

"Look," Harry said, looking Ron straight in the eye, "I'll tell you, I just…why don't we go eat first?  It's gonna take awhile once I get started."  Without waiting for an answer, Harry stalked out of the room, trying not think of how his friends would react, and wishing they'd just forget about it.

By the time Harry reached the kitchen, Ron and Hermione were right behind him.  Together, they pushed through the door and into what seemed to be a war zone.  Pots and pans were flying everywhere, as the twins stood on the counters, throwing anything they could reach at what looked like a blender gone berserk. Ginny was taking cover behind a livid Mrs. Weasley.  The poor woman was yelling dangerously at the twins, as she tried in vain to avoid the splatters of pancake batter that flew in every direction.  It took Hermione only a few seconds to size up the situation.

"What did you two do to that blender?" she demanded.  Then, braving the storm of kitchenware and batter, she stepped forward and pressed a small button on the top of the machine.  The batter stopped flying at once as the two whisks stopped rotating, but the machine itself continued to spin around like a top.

"We only set a little mixing charm on it!   Bloody muggle contraption!"  Fred seemed to take the blender's behavior personally, and gave it one last whack with the frying pan.  Hermione was about to explain how the blender worked without magic, but Mrs. Weasley had started shouting again after the few moments of relieved silence.

"The two of you!" she raged, 'This is the last time I let you in the kitchen!  You could've killed someone!"  The twins opened their mouths to protest, but were stopped as their mother began pushing them towards the fireplace.  "Out!  You can find breakfast in Diagon Alley!  You're going back to that ridiculous store if I have to escort you myself!  Oh!  Harry, dear!  While I'm there I can pick up your books.  Do you have your list?"  Harry was about to say 'No' when Hermione spoke up.

"Here's his school letter, Mrs. Weasley," she said sweetly, handing the sad looking letter to the woman.

"Thank you, dear!  Now have you chosen an elective subject, Harry?"  Harry shrugged but, once again, Hermione piped up.

"He's doing Magical Healing with me."  Harry could do nothing but gape at his friend, as Mrs. Weaseley nodded happily and reached for the floo powder.

"Very good!" she said.  Then, throwing some powder into the flames, she shouted 'Diagon Alley!' twice, each time pushing a twin into the flames.  Finally, she was preparing to follow them, but she turned to Ginny, saying, "Ginny, why don't you magic this mess away and finish the breakfast, please."

"But, Mum, I can't do magic!  I'm still underage!"

"Oh don't worry about that!" Mrs. Weasley looked at her like she was being ridiculous, "The Ministry can't detect any magic in _this_ house!"  And without another word, she stepped forward and flooed herself to Diagon Alley.   Ginny, Ron, and Harry turned to each other, looks of surprise slowly melting into delighted, scheming looks.  

"Harry," Ron said seriously, "Your parents' house is awesome!"  Herminone, however, sighed.

"Ron, it's not as if you can do anything with magic anyway, aside from helping cook breakfast."

"Why not?  I can think of plenty of things!  We could figure out what the Order is up to…make ourselves invisible and sit in or something.  Though, Harry here should just tell us, as he's—oof!"  Hermione had given him a swift jab in the ribs and looked quickly at Ginny, who fortunately didn't seem to notice.

"Really, Ron," Hermione said, "D'you think all the adults around here are just going to ignore it if we start using magic?  Anyway, we'll be back at school in a few days, I really don't see the point…"  Harry, however, had just thought of something.

"You know," he started quietly, "I can think of a few things too."  His friends looked at him curiously, and found him gazing at Hedwig, who was resting happily on top of her cage.  Harry was thinking, of course, of his animagi form.  If he could do magic, that meant he could practice transforming!  Not to mention the fact that now he could get down to business and start learning other spells too; his weeks of reading hadn't been a total waste—he'd discovered a lot of very useful little spells and guards.  

"Harry," Hermione said slowly, dragging him away from his thoughts, "What are you planning?  Oh! I knew this would happen!"

"Knew?  Are you telling me you've known all along that we could do magic here?" Ron looked as if his eyebrows might jump off his face.

"Well, I asked!  After all, it seems pretty obvious that there'd be a concealment charm along with all the other protections."

"And you didn't _tell_ us?  Hermione!  Mum made me clean and organize my whole trunk!"  As Ron continued to argue with Hermione, Harry decided to get out of their way and went to help Ginny with breakfast.  In no time at all, Harry found himself frying eggs and bacon, while Ginny stood beside him, buttering toast and making tea.   Ten minutes later, the two of them carried plates and serving dishes over to the table, where Ron and Hermione were still bickering.  Ginny grinned at Harry and cleared her throat.

The two arguers looked up in surprise and immediately stopped talking as the food was set on the table and the meal was finished in relative peace.  Though there was one small argument when Hermione scolded Harry halfheartedly, insisting that his eggs and bacon were too good to have been cooked without magic, it was resolved immediately when Ginny did a quick _priori incantatum _spell.  A faint, fluttering image slipped from the tip of his wand, showing that the last spell he'd done had nothing to do with cooking.  Hermione shrugged and admitted defeat, but she had a strange look on her face as she turned back to her plate.  After eating, Ginny followed the other three up to the boys' room, where Hermione promptly sat by the fire and waited for Harry to speak.  Ron hesitated, looking at from Harry to Ginny worriedly.

"Er…Gin, we sort of need to talk…"  Ginny looked severely annoyed as she turned to leave, but Harry stood in her way.

"Wait," he said, looking to Ron, "You said it yourself; it's not going to help her to keep secrets from her.  You might as well stay and hear this, Ginny. It'll affect you too."  Ron shrugged and took a seat next to Hermione.  As Ginny found a seat, Harry tried to gather his thoughts, suddenly realizing that he had no idea where to begin.  He was about to try, when Hermione spoke up.

"Wait, Harry.  Before you go into this business, I want to know something: What was that spell that just came out of your wand?"  Harry looked at her, confused.

"I don't know…what's wrong?"

"Well, I could have sworn that the last spell you did before holidays was when you stupefied Malfoy, and whatever just came out of your wand was _not_ stupefying."  

'Trust Hermione to remember every spell I've ever cast!' Harry thought, but he could only shrug at Hermione's words.    

"It had _wings_, Harry!"  At once, Harry's eyes grew wide with understanding, and he grinned.

'Ahh!" He said quietly, "I forgot…and I was just thinking about it too!"  He spoke to himself, but the other three watched curiously as he pulled out his wand.  The last spell he had done was for the animagus transformation, and Harry figured, the best way to explain that was to show them.  So, without hesistation, he began the wand movements and focused on transforming.  A moment later, he was lofting gracefully out of his chair and settling on the mantle of the huge fireplace.

It felt wonderful to fly!  Like broomstick flying, it seemed that he left all his worries on the ground when he took off, and the experience was doubly enjoyable when he got to peer down at the shocked faces of his friends.  

"Wow!" Ron gaped, "I never would've guessed…you look just like…" he gave up talking and, to Harry's chagrin, began laughing.  Harry turned to look at the girls, and though Hermione's face was still set in disbelief, it seemed Ginny was just as amused as Ron.  Harry gave Ron what he hoped was a questioning face, but Ron only laughed harder.  What was wrong?  

"Don't look so worried!"  Ginny chided him, "It's just that, you look awfully like…yourself!  I mean, your hair…and your eyes…"  Ron nodded, trying to catch his breath.

"Not to mention, you're scrawny as anything!"  Harry couldn't help but ruffle at this comment.  Scrawny!  He tried to picture himself as a human…he wasn't scrawny!  Maybe a bit slim, but—

"Ouch!"  Harry's head hit the ceiling sharply as he inadvertently returned to human form, standing precariously on the mantle.  Then, before he could recover from the bump to his head, he found himself pitching forwards off the mantle, which he suddenly realized was quite high, now that he was on top of it.  As he stumbled hopelessly off of the ledge, Harry wished fleetingly that he was still in the owl form, but when he instinctively threw out his hands to catch himself, he saw to his surprise that he had wings!  In a split second, he had spread his wings wide, and instead of crashing painfully to the floor, he stopped abruptly about two feet from the carpet and eased himself the rest of the way down.  Feeling rather impressed with himself, her looked around at his friends again.  Ginny snickered uncontrollably, while Ron gasped, 'You should've seen your face!', but Hermione looked ready to explode with questions.

"Harry!  I can't believe—all this time—how long?  How could you not tell us you were becoming an animagus?"  She strode towards him dangerously.  Harry backed away from her, getting somewhat closer to the roaring fire than he would have preferred.  He opened his mouth to protest, but then decided he'd better return to human form first.  Scooting sideways, Harry angled carefully away from both Hermione and the fireplace before he transformed.

"Wait!  Please!  Be quiet!" Harry begged, looking anxiously around the room, "It's supposed to be kept secret!"

"I'll say!"  Hermione spat, but before she could go on, Harry continued.

"Listen!  I didn't tell you because I only just became one about a month ago—"  
  


"Oh, we both know that's impossible!  It would take years to make the potion and—"

"And Snape made the potion for me; he _did_ spend a year on it.  McGonagall said—"

"Snape?" Ron exclaimed, looking disgusted, "Not him again?"  Harry shrugged.

"Anyway," Hermione continued, "What _about_ Professor McGonagall?"  
  


"She's the one who showed me how to transform and brought the potion to me.'

"And this was when?"

"Nearly a month ago…end of July."

"Harry, you can't have learned to transform in just one month!  That's even more complicated than the potion!"

"What do you mean?  It took about two minutes for her to show me."

"_Two minutes!_"

"Hermione," Ron said, grinning, "Why not just ask McGonagall.  She'll tell you."  Harry nodded.

"I will," Hermione said pointedly, "But for now, d'you want to tell us WHY IN THE WORLD you felt the need to become an OWL?"  Harry sighed and answered in a markedly quiet voice.

"I didn't 'feel the need,' Hermione.  Dumbledore suggested it…as a protection.  Nobody's supposed to know, incase I need to, you know, disguise myself— which is why I'd appreciate it if you'd keep it down a bit!"

"Protection?"  Now Ron's face was beginning to look just as suspicious as Hermione's.  What is this all about?  First joining the Order and D.A., then you're an animagus? What is the _deal_?"  He crossed his arms stubbornly and Hermione plopped down next to him on the couch, giving Harry a piercing look.  Ginny's eyes were wide and questioning as she looked up at Harry.  

With his shoulders slumped in defeat, Harry collapsed into an open chair.  As he looked around at his three friends, Harry understood that if he was to tell them anything, he'd have to tell them everything, and so, with a growing sense of fear, he cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Before I tell you anything, I want you to think about whether you really want to hear this; I know _I_ wish I'd never been told…"  
  


"Of course we want to hear it!" Hermione assured him.  Ginny gave a silent nod.

"Alright, then," Harry sighed, "I suppose there is a lot to tell you, but it all relates to one thing, so I'll explain that first."  Harry couldn't believe he was actually discussing this!  It was the first time he'd talked to anyone about the prophecy, apart from Dumbledore, and it felt strange.  In a creepy way, he felt as if he was sharing the news of his own death, but at the same time, a terrible sense of guilt and despair seemed to fall over him.

"Last year," he started, "You were all with me in the Department of Mysteries."  They all nodded.  "So I guess you remember what we found there: a prophecy.  Now, all three of you were...indisposed…at the time, but I imagine you found out later, that the prophecy was destroyed, broken.  Nobody heard it."  Again, Harry waited for the others to nod before he went on.  "Well, it turns out that a prophecy is not only stored in the Department of Mysteries, but also in the memory of the one who heard the original prophecy.  And it happens that this prophecy, one concerning me and Voldemort, was originally made in the presence of Professor Dumbledore."  Harry avoided the faces of his friends as he recited the prophecy, and focused instead on his hands.  Speaking the haunting words aloud made him feel sick with dread and he feared the reactions he'd get from the others, so it was more than a few minutes before he finally forced himself to raise his head.

Ron's face was frozen in a dead expression, his shock evident.  He held Hermione's hand in his own as she sat with her knees hugged to her chest.  Her face was set in an angry scowl, but tears welled in the corners of her eyes.  Ginny sat closest to Harry, and as he looked into her face, she reached out a hand for his.  Though her eyes were wide and glossy with tears, she faced Harry with a look of such certainty and trust, that he couldn't take his eyes from hers.  Slowly, but surely, a sense of confidence and determination flowed through him; these were the people he cared most about, and he would do whatever it took to protect them.  At that moment he made a promise to himself: To protect his friends, he _would_ succeed against Voldemort, even if it meant that he became a murderer himself.  Shaking slightly, he spoke again.

"There's more," he said, surprised at the steadiness of his own voice, "At the meeting last night, Snape replayed a bit of the most recent Death Eater meeting…and we heard Voldemort's plans.  He's infiltrating Hogwarts…and his top priority is to find my weaknesses…"  Harry paused to swallow.  "I just thought you should know—you guys are my greatest weakness."  


	11. Back to School

Chapter 11: Back to School 

"People have nightmares about things apart from Voldemort…"  Harry's quiet confession had an unsettling effect on his three friends.  Up until this point, his voice had been clear and steady.  To his own surprise, he had told them the truth and answered all of their questions without any sign of weakness, but when Hermione asked him about his nightmares, he couldn't control the note of desperation that slipped into his voice.

Desperate.  That was how he felt.  At last, he had gathered the strength to tell them the truth; he had told them of the danger they were in, but to his dismay, they seemed more concerned about him.  After Harry had told the three about the evil threats hanging over them, they had spent a few minutes in shocked silence, but soon they had recovered and they focused instead on Harry.  What protection did _he_ have against Voldemort?  How was _he_ preparing himself?  They insisted on knowing, and so Harry explained.

"I _am_ preparing myself.  I asked to join the Order so I would know what's going on.  Lupin's helping me learn to apparate.  Obviously, I've become an animagus in case I need to disguise myself."  Harry had hesitated then, unsure whether he should tell them how he had spent his last couple of weeks at the Dursleys', but before he could decide, Hermione spoke up.

"What about your mind?  Last time I checked, Voldemort had free range over your thoughts.  I think you should take up occlumency."  She crossed her arms decisively.

"As a matter of fact, that issue has already been addressed."  Harry couldn't keep his face free of the bewilderment he felt; he was still puzzling over the idea that he had completely blocked off his own consciousness.

"What do you mean?"  Ron asked interestedly.  Harry shrugged and told them what Lupin had said.

"But wouldn't you have realized awhile ago?" Hermione asked, "I mean, didn't you notice when you stopped having nightmares?"  That had been the point where Harry finally broke down.  Didn't they understand?  Of course he still had nightmares!  Terrible, blood-chilling nightmares that made him wake up shaking and panicked.  But Hermione was right; the nightmares were no longer visions of Voldemort.  Instead, nearly every night, Harry was confronted with horrible images of the death and suffering of his loved ones.  He wouldn't even attempt to count how many times he had watched each of his friends die, painfully and horribly, and here they were asking about _his_ safety!  Were they going to completely ignore what he had told them about Voldemort?  He would not let them.

"D'you want to know what I see in my dreams every night, Hermione…? _Every night_?"  Hermione had given him an apprehensive nod, and Harry closed his eyes wearily as he continued, "I see you—all of you, and the teachers, and your family, Ron, and…and Sirius.  I see everyone.  And I watch every night, as one of you is killed!  Or tortured…" he shook his head slowly, "People have nightmares about things apart from Voldemort…"  

Harry knew his voice wavered as he spoke, but after a few moments of silence, he went on, "Don't you see?  You should be worrying about yourselves!  You're all in danger now, and I…I'm so sorry!"  He closed his eyes tightly, wishing he close out the suffocating reality that he faced, but he forced them open again and looked around at his friends.

Though Hermione's face was streaked with tears, she was looking back at him defiantly.  Ron, also, had a bold look.  Ginny still held Harry's hand firmly, but her eyes, which seemed not to focus on anything in front of her, held a pensive look.  He noticed for the first time, how much she'd changed in the past five years, and yet now more than ever, she reminded him of the first time he'd met her.  Back then she'd been too shy to even speak to him, but now it seemed so natural to have her hand wrapped in his…so comforting.  Harry's perplexed pondering was interrupted as the small red-head spoke suddenly.

"It seems to me, that you are right.  If we don't take Voldemort's plans seriously, we _are_ a weakness for you.  On the other hand…if we protect ourselves _and_ help you prepare, we can only be a strength."  Harry looked at her sadly.

"But that's just the problem!" he said, "You can't be either…I can't let any of you close to me at all!  Voldemort said to Nagini, 'Find out who he loves…'"  Harry stopped immediately, the confused faces telling him once again that he was speaking in Parseltongue.  "Argh!"  He roared in frustration and began looking around for parchment and a pen.

"Don't worry about it, mate," Ron sighed, "It doesn't matter what he says.  You can't protect us by pushing us away; everyone already knows we're friends."  Hermione nodded.

"All we can do is help each other and try our best," she said.  Harry knew they were right. 

"Yes," he nodded, "I suppose we can look on the bright side, anyway.  At least we know what to expect.  I'm sure Dumbledore and everyone will have some ideas of how to protect you, and I s'pose having D.A. again will be good…"  Harry slumped back in his chair.  "This is going to be a long year!"

Harry spent the rest of the morning trying to organize his trunk with Hermione's assistance.  Ron sat nearby playing a surprisingly exciting match of wizards' chess against himself, and Ginny curled up in a large armchair and read aloud from Harry's apparation book.  By the time Mrs. Weasley's voice floated up, announcing her return and lunchtime, Ginny had made it almost all the way through the book and Harry's trunk was in spanking order.  Ron set aside his chess pieces, and the four of them tromped downstairs for lunch.  

"Hello, hello!"  Mrs. Weasley's cheerful voice rang out from the depths of a large shopping bag as she reached into it.  She pulled herself out a moment later, hefting a pile of books onto the table.  "These are all yours, dear," she nodded at Harry, "I wasn't sure if you needed anything else, so Fred and George said they'd be glad to pick up whatever you need.  They'll be dropping by later."  She smiled happily and Harry decided she must have forgotten about this morning's kitchen disaster.

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said as he reached for the books.  Perhaps he would find something useful in one of these?  Immediately, Harry sat down and began scanning the titles, wondering which he should look at first.  His eyes fell suddenly on _Magical Healing and Remedies_, and he looked up sharply at Hermione.  "Hey, Hermione?" he began quietly.

"Hmm?"  Hermione's tone was innocent, but it was obvious that she knew what was coming next, as she was looking around nervously, stubbornly avoiding Harry's eyes.

"I meant to ask you earlier," Harry continued in a whisper, not wanting to be overheard by Ron's mum, "Why you took it upon yourself to sign me up for the Healing elective?"  Hermione looked slightly alarmed at his calm words.

"Well…you didn't choose anything….and…I thought…"  She looked down at her hands.  "I thought it would be a good idea!" she answered quickly.  Harry's eyes narrowed, and he noticed that both Ron and Ginny hastily scooted away to help Mrs. Weasley.

"So I guess it didn't occur to you that maybe I didn't want to take an elective?"

"Oh!  Come on, Harry!" Hermione said, rolling her eyes, "Everybody takes an elective!  Even I'm taking one and I've got ten N.E.W.T. classes!  Anyways, if you don't like Healing, I'm sure you can change to something else, I just thought—"

"But I don't need to take another!  I've got six N.E.W.T. classes myself, which is more than enough!  I don't have the slightest interest in adding to my workload."

"But electives are your chance to get extra knowledge!  Don't you want to learn as much as you can?  To be as prepared as poss—"

"I _really_ doubt that Healing or Arts and Crafts is going to be much use to me, Hermione!"

"You don't agree that Healing might come in handy?  Remind me—how many times have you been sent to the infirmary?"  Harry was about to utter a scathing reply, but stopped short as a plate of sandwiches was shoved in his face by Ron.  Hermione evidently took his silence as a sign that she had won the argument, but Harry continued to glare at her for the rest of the meal.  

Afterwards, they all returned to the boys' room, determined to practice apparating before dinner that evening.  Harry placed his new books carefully into his trunk while Ginny finished reading, and then, somewhat nervously, prepared to apparate.  Hermione suggested that they try one at a time, in case there was an accident and one of them had to go for help.  Ron paled slightly at the mention of accidents and suggested that someone else go first.

"I'm not sure I paid very close attention…" he admitted, earning himself reproving looks from both Hermione and Ginny, but Harry noticed that neither of the girls offered to try first either.

"Well, I guess I'll have a go, then?" he said, grinning at the relieved looks from his friends.  He took a deep breath, preparing for the worst, but as he carefully followed the "ten simple steps" the book had taught, he was pleased to find that he had no trouble at all.  The next second, he found himself standing by the doorway, looking across the room to where he had been only a moment before.  He gave the other three a quick grin before once again closing his eyes in concentration.  When he opened them again, he found himself almost exactly where he had started, facing three sets of wide, shocked eyes.  For a split second it looked as though his friends were about to say something, but evidently they thought better of it.  The room was soon full of the distinct, popping noise as Ron, Ginny, and Hermione each took their turns, and had similar success, though Ron, at one point, accidentally apparated himself underneath his bed, rather than on top, and Ginny kept appearing several inches above the spots where she meant to appear.

As they happily made their way down to dinner that evening, Harry wondered aloud why such strict controls were put on apparation if it were so simple.  He had always gotten the impression that it was dangerous and complicated, but Hermione explained that most apparation accidents happen to wizards who do not have a stable sense of self.  

"…Which is why the Ministry insists that people wait until they are of-age.  I guess they figure, if you're ever going to develop any personal awareness, you'll have done so by the time you're seventeen."  Ron raised his eyebrows at Harry, but neither commented as they pushed their way into the noisy, crowded dining room.

*****

The atmosphere in the dining room was friendly and comfortable.  Minerva McGonagall let her gaze roam lazily around the room, noticing the smiles, laughter, and friendly chatter that seemed to spring back and forth around the long, shining table.  Indeed, the only face that did not look happy was the one seated next to her.  

Severus Snape sat stiffly in his chair, picking uninterestedly at his food.  He looked up every so often, and shot dirty looks at the group of teenagers seated at the far end of the table.  Minerva shook her head grimly and addressed her younger colleague.

"You're doing it again, Severus."

"Pardon?"  He turned to face her, still scowling.

"Don't you think that young man has enough to deal with without your notorious temper?"  Severus snorted and looked back to his plate.

"I believe both of us, Potter and myself, were dearly looking forward to his dropping out of my class…" he admitted, "I was so close to never having to speak to him again!  Now, though…." 

"You almost got your wish, Severus," Minerva told him quietly, "According to Miss Granger, Harry had every intention of not returning to Hogwarts at all.  The Potions professor sneered at this, and seemed to dismiss it with a wave of his hand.

"Another attention-seeking act, I imag—"

"I rather think not.  Based on what Miss Granger told me and something Lupin said, I think Mr. Potter was quite serious.  I might not have believed it myself, though, if Remus hadn't said anything; Potter is normally _desperate_ to return to the school…"

"How do you know that?"

"Oh, Dumbledore has said so to me a number of times.  The boy dreads spending time away from Hogwarts."

"I suppose his muggle relatives don't give him as much praise and worship as he's used to."

"Are you blind, Severus?"  She raised her eyebrows in disbelief as she spoke.  Snape scowled dangerously again, but Minerva ignored it and went on in a whisper.  "I know you saw the condition that boy was in!  You escorted him here, after all.  Surely you noticed how thin he looked!  How thin he _still_ looks!"  Her temper was rising steadily.  "I don't care what delusions you're under, Severus!  Potter is not the pampered, attention-craving person you seem to think he is.  If you ever open your eyes to reality you—"

"I'll find out that the marvelous Harry Potter is brilliant, courageous Gryffindor, just like his insufferable father."  Snape's face was contorted into a look of disgust.  Minerva glared at him.

"He's certainly a true Gryffindor," she agreed, "But as much as I hate to break it to you, he's is very unlike James in many ways—not counting his physical features, of course.   I knew James; I remember both his virtues and his faults.  I know Harry even better, and believe me, he's a different person entirely." 

"Please spare me.  The boy thinks he is above the rules, just like James.  He has no respect for authority."

"I haven't heard any other teacher complain of this," Minerva replied.  "He's always treated me respectfully."

"Well, I have no idea how he behaves in your classes, but I assure you, he is rude and sullen in my lessons, not to mention his careless attitude towards his work.  I don't believe I've ever seen a student perform so far below his potential!  He doesn't care how ignorant he looks."

"That," Minerva said smugly, "Sounds distinctly unlike James Potter."  Snape gave no reply this time.  He merely scowled again and turned his attention back to his plate; the conversation was evidently over.  

*****

The next day dawned bright and warm.  The boys munched toast as they rummaged around their room and prepared to leave.  Harry was both anxious and excited about the upcoming trip; Lupin had revealed to him last night that the two of them would be flying separately rather than taking the Hogwarts Express.  Normally, Harry would be overjoyed with the chance to have a nice long fly, but he found that he was nervous about today's flight, because Lupin had made it quite clear that he would not be using his Firebolt for most of the journey, meaning that, for the first time, Harry would be traveling in his owl form.  

Finally, he said goodbye to Hermione and the Weasleys, who were being escorted to the train station by several aurors.  One of these was Tonks, who had used her metamorphmagus abilities to change herself into a teenage version of herself.  She had chosen freckles and long, blonde hair, which she then pulled into a haphazard ponytail.  As a finishing touch, she had acquired a pair of slim glasses with thin, sliver frames. The final result was very convincing and Harry was sure that none of the other students would suspect that she was anything other than a new classmate, but he wondered if she would be able to keep up the charade for a whole year.

"Well," Lupin murmured slowly as he peered out the window, "I think they're out of sight—you can transform now."  Harry was surprised.

"You know, I told Ron and them about my being an animagus…"

"Hmm…well, even so, the others don't know."

"But…they're in the Order…"  He shook his head uncomprehendingly, but Lupin gave a weary sigh. 

"Despite what you may think, members of the Order don't always get all the details.  Apart from yourself and Minerva McGonagall, only Dumbledore and I were told about your animagus disguise; Snape knows you're an animagus, of course, but he wasn't informed of your form.  Your security is of utmost importance, so everyone in the Order agreed that it was best to keep these matters as secret as possible."

"I'm so sick of secrets," Harry said, shaking his head in disgust.  "But evidently Dumbledore's shared the prophecy with you all…'utmost importance'…"

"He has," Lupin admitted quietly, "But only the first half of it."

"The only part Voldemort knows," Harry said.  Lupin nodded.  "So, Dumbledore doesn't trust some of the members of the Order?"

"No.  That's not it.  The human mind is a vulnerable thing; it's best to avoid the danger altogether."  

"Right…" Harry said miserably, realizing the truth in Lupin's words.  "Well, I suppose Ron, Hermione, and Ginny will all have to take up occlumency, then.  I told them everything."  The older man looked slightly taken aback.  Harry shrugged and continued bitterly, "I told you: I've had it with secrets.  I thought I was doing the right thing, but I suppose I've just made another _stupid_ mistake."

"Listen," Lupin said bracingly, "You haven't made a mistake.  They're smart kids and they care about you; they would have learned it eventually.  Perhaps they _will_ have to start occlumency lessons, but that's not really such a bad thing.  Anyways, I agree with you on the secrecy issue—some things shouldn't be kept hidden.  On that note, there are a few things I'd like to talk to you about, but let's go ahead and get flying—I can talk on the way."


	12. Home At Last

Chapter 12:  Home At Last 

A chilly drizzle fell quietly from the grayness above as Harry Potter stood stubbornly on the lawn of Hogwarts.  He was not alone; behind him stood a small crowd of familiar faces.  Hermione and Ron stood nearest Harry, and a sprinkling of red-heads indicated the presence of the rest of the Weasley family.  Also present was a handful of the more courageous and determined students and teachers, but most prominent were the figures of Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall. 

In front of Harry stood the unmistakable form of Lord Voldemort, his cloak ruffling in the slight breeze.  His eyes held a look of crazed passion, some combination of anger and delight.  Like Harry, the Dark Lord was flanked by his supporters, and among the ranks of Death Eaters, Dementors were distinguishable only by their height and the slow, rattling breaths they took. 

Apart from the tell-tale breathing, there was complete silence as Voldemort and Harry stared at each other.  Despite the many witches and wizards that surrounded them, it was clear that this was a battle between Harry and Voldemort only.  Then, at last, the Dark Lord spoke, his eyes burning.

"So, Potter!  The moment has come—we shall see who is destined to live, and who will fail."

"I do not fear you," Harry said clearly.

"Perhaps not…but that will not save you, and it will not save your pathetic friends who stand trembling behind you."

Harry did not flinch, but remained still, saying quietly, "I will protect them with my last breath."  Voldemort sneered.

"Like they have protected you?"  A note of amusement slipped into his voice.  "With their lies and their secrets?  With the _wise_ choices they made for you?  Ahh, yes, they've certainly earned this.  Thanks to these fools, you've lived such a happy life, hmm?"  He cackled.

"They tried," Harry said, this time more quietly still.  But he remained standing defiantly, his wand pointed at Voldemort.

Suddenly, the older wizard laughed shrilly.  "Oh, my dear boy," he said, "Don't you think it's time you faced reality?  Must I be the one to point it out to you?  They're not _standing behind you_!  They're standing _behind_ you!  You aren't their hero—you're just their shield."  Once again, Harry spoke softly.

"That isn't true," he said, but his eyes had widened and his hand trembled ever-so slightly.  Seeing this, Professor McGonagall burst out breathlessly.

"It _isn't_ true, Harry!  _Don't_ listen to him!"  But Voldemort laughed viciously as, suddenly, all around the gathering, a wave of echoes could be heard in what was clearly Voldemort's voice.

"They lied to you!"  "They abandoned you for eleven years!"  "They don't care what happens to you…you're nobody to them!"  Then, through the frenzy of sound, a new voice was heard among the echoes.  Harry gasped and cringed as his own voice began taunting him loudly.  "Why didn't they tell me the truth about it all?"  "They could have _done_ something to save Sirius!"  "Everything about my life has been guarded like some great secret!"  And finally, the echoes merged into one, eerily singular voice which grew even louder and more accusing.  It seemed to bombard Harry from all sides.  "You never mattered."  "There's only one fate for you."  "YOU ARE ALONE."

Minerva McGonagall saw Harry's face frozen in a look of horror, and then she awoke with a sharp gasp, shaking uncontrollably.  She dropped her head into her unsteady hands, and felt hot tears covering her cheeks.

*****

Harry arrived at Hogwarts in time to see the now-empty carriages being pulled away from the castle by the skeletal black thestrals.  The sky was already a deep indigo and stars were twinkling down on the grounds of the castle peacefully.  Harry could almost feel his heart warming as he looked down on the familiar castle, and he had to admit that he was glad to be back.  

He and Lupin had flown all day long, stopping only once for a short rest and a snack.  For the first hour or so, Lupin hadn't said a word.  Harry easily got the hang of flying and soon found himself soaring happily through the sky, and he was glad that Lupin did not start talking immediately; he had a suspicion that Sirius' death was among the topics that Lupin had in mind.  So, when Lupin did finally speak, Harry was surprised at what he said.

"Well, Harry," he started casually, "I must say I am shocked at how well you've mastered this animagus thing."  Harry responded by doing a quick loop-the-loop, pleased with the praise of his flying skills, but Lupin shook his head.  "No, I'm serious.  I've never heard of someone learning the process so quickly.  Do you realize…it took your dad and Sirius months to transform correctly?  And what's more Harry, they weren't able to transform without wands for…well, for years!  Peter never figured that out," he added the last comment bitterly.

Harry was slightly surprised at this information, but he couldn't speak, so he made no reply and just continued gliding along next to Lupin's broom.  Lupin sighed.

"Anyways, that's not really what I needed to talk to you about…" _Here it comes_, Harry thought, and he was right.  As Lupin tried to ease into the subject, it seemed to become more and more difficult to keep flying, until finally, Harry gave in and perched on the end of Lupin's broom.  He didn't turn to face the other wizard, but Lupin kept talking.  Harry didn't want to hear any of it, didn't want to have to think about Sirius, but he realized afterwards, that he felt better.  He had needed to hear it.

Now, as Harry prepared to swoop down towards the immense castle, he thought back to what Lupin had said.  Sirius had died as he would have wanted to die: fighting for his loved ones.  Harry knew how much Sirius had hated being unable to act.  He understood all too well Sirius' reasons for "coming to the rescue".  "After all," Lupin told Harry, "If he hadn't gone to the Ministry and something had happened to you…he would have been devastated.  I think he preferred death to such a possibility."  Harry had nodded, remembering his own reasons for going to the Ministry, which were almost exactly the same.

Finally, Lupin signaled for Harry to land near a clump of wild looking shrubberies at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.  As Harry gently alighted, Lupin pulled out what appeared to be an ordinary, if a bit unfashionable, pair of spectacles.  These he placed gently on the bridge of his nose, where the bifocal lenses looked quite out of place.  Harry watched curiously as Lupin glanced casually at his watch, but managed to get a good scan of their surroundings as he turned his head.  At last he seemed satisfied and he pulled off the glasses as he turned to Harry with a grin.

"Alright, you can transform back now.  The coast is clear."  Harry immediately changed, eager to speak to Lupin.

"What are those?" he asked as he assumed his human shape and the two began walking towards the front doors of Hogwarts.

"Spect-oculars.  Another handy little Weasley Twins invention.  They can detect invisible motion."

"Invisible…like an invisibility cloak?"  Lupin nodded.

"Among other things…" he trailed off.  He reached into his robes and pulled out the roll of parchment which held Harry's trunk, broom, and other belongings.

"I didn't need the broom after all," Harry said thoughtfully as he accepted the parchment. 

"No…you didn't seem to get tired at all..."   He turned to Harry with a serious face, "Now, Harry, I'm going to be…well, I'm still recruiting for the Order, so I'll be traveling, but if you need me, Hedwig should be able to reach me fairly quickly.  I just wanted you to know that…" Lupin hesitated, evidently having a hard time, but then continued, "I want you to know that you can talk to me if you need anything…or even if you don't…whenever you like….I'd be glad to hear from you.  Otherwise, I expect I'll see you at the next Order meeting!"  And with that, Lupin held Harry at arms length for a moment, said a quick "Good night!", and then turned and walked away.  Harry realized that he was on the steps of Hogwarts, so he too turned and he walked slowly into the school.

The moment he stepped into the castle, Harry could hear the commotion coming from the Great Hall.  He peaked in and saw that the sorting was almost over; only a few students remained standing in the front of the hall waiting to be placed in one of the four school houses.  

"Vespa, Clive."  A lanky, blondish boy took a seat on the stool, ramming the old sorting hat on his head.

"RAVENCLAW!" cried the hat.  A wave of cheers rose up from the Ravenclaw table and the boy grinned and hurried towards his housemates.

"Wendel, Grace," Professor McGonagall called out once the cheering had stopped.  A short, smirking girl walked purposefully towards the hat and placed it on her head immediately, not bothering to sit down.  And almost instantly the hat responded.

"SLYTHERIN!" shouted the hat, and a roar was heard from the Slytherin's side of the hall.  Finally, the last student was called.

"Turly, Tonya.  Transfer student."  Harry watched the last girl place the hat on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!"  Harry cheered with the rest of his house as the girl got up and skipped towards the table.  As she smiled, he suddenly recognized her as Tonks, and he decided that her disguise had certainly worked.  Smiling happily, he entered the hall and made his way towards the still-cheering Gryffindor table.  As he sat down, he saw Dumbledore's eyes on him and gave the Professor a brief nod before squeezing in beside Ron and saying a quick hello to some of his fellow Gryffindors.

"Hey, Harry…"  Ron started in a whisper, but before he could say anything more, Dumbledore began to speak.

"Now that all of us are here and sorted, I have only a brief set of announcements.  Firstly, I don't think I really need to remind any returning students, but for the sake of our new additions, let it be known that the Forbidden Forest is not to be entered for any reason.  Also, please see Mr. Filch for the updated list of banned items, which now includes an assortment of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes merchandise.  No magic is to be done in the corridors, and finally, at some point tomorrow, your instructors will be discussing the matter of increased security and safety precautions here at Hogwarts, so please pay close attention.  Now…" he waved his hand gracefully, "Eat!"

As the food appeared on the table, Ron seemed to forget whatever he had wanted to say to Harry.  He began piling things onto his plate at top speed, while Hermione looked on in disbelief.  Harry took a moment to look around the table as he reached for the nearest platter that hadn't already been claimed by his best friend.  On Hermione's other side were Parvati and Lavender, chattering excitedly with some seventh year girl Harry did not know.  Neville, Seamus and Dean, who were all sitting nearby, greeted Harry cheerfully before continuing a serious discussion of their summer holidays.  Tonks was sitting across from Hermione, also watching Ron with a mixture of shock and fascination, but she dragged her eyes away for a moment to give Harry a friendly wink.  When Harry looked away from her and found himself looking directly across the table at three first years.  To his surprise, all three of them were looking right back at him, apparently unaware of their hanging jaws.

"Harry POTTER?" demanded the middle one, a blonde-haired witch.

"Harry, meet Leah," Hermione said with a grin.

Leah aimed a shocked look at Hermione. "How did you know—?" 

"Well, the whole hall heard your name called," Hermione said reasonably, trying in vain to get a bowl of mashed potatoes away from Ron.  Leah seemed satisfied and focused once again on Harry.  The boy to her right snickered and introduced himself to Harry and Hermione.

"I'm Hugh—and I know who you are Harry, but….?"  

"Hermione Granger," Hermione offered, "And this, is Ron."  As she pointed at him, Ron looked up from his plate briefly and grunted at the first years.  Tonks introduced herself as Tonya, and Hugh smiled pleasantly, but Leah just nodded distractedly, keeping her eyes on Harry, who was finding it a trifle disturbing.  He pulled his gaze away from Leah's bulging eyes and spoke politely to the last of the three.

"And who're you then?"  But the girl didn't answer.  Instead, she blushed and looked down at her plate.  Harry shrugged and turned to Hermione, hoping to hear all the details of the train ride he had missed, but before he could bring it up, Leah spoke again.

"D'you realize you're rated as the Second Most-Desirable Underage Wizard by Teen Witch Magazine for the last two months?" she blurted out.

"WHAT?"  Harry nearly choked on a bite of steak.

"Second Most-Desirable?" Ron muttered, "Who's the first?"

"Armand Cadeau, but that's just because he's rich and has a French accent…"

"And what makes Harry so desirable?" Tonks asked innocently, trying her best to suppress a smile.

"Well, I suppose the mystery for one thing.  I mean obviously you're famous, but nobody knows anything about your life up until about five years ago, right?" Harry stared, but the girl continued seriously, "That makes you mysterious.  And on top of that, you're a hero."  By now, Ron was snorting stew up his nose, but Leah just went on.  "I mean, you've done tons of brave stuff—like saving that Sorcerer's stone and killing that great snake-thing…and the Triwizard tournament, you won that right?"

Harry didn't know what to think.  "How do you know all this stuff?" he asked incredulously.

"Well I was the president of our branch of the Harry Potter Fan Club for the last three years!  I mean, honestly, I'd better know something about you if I want to be in that position.  And, by the way, I had a _very_ hard time keeping the club together last year…but I guess it all worked out for the best, 'cause now we've got only the most devoted fans.  I'm actually quite sorry I had to leave it, but I imagine I'll fit into the Hogwarts branch just fine…"

"There isn't a _Hogwarts branch_," Hermione said at once.  Leah turned to her and spoke condescendingly.

"Of course there is!  My older sister had a fan club pen pal from Hogwarts a few years ago.  That's how I got a lot of my inside information, actually.  Do any of you know Jenny Weasley?"

"_GINNY Weasley_?" Ron yelled, spraying pumpkin juice across the table.  Leah had no time to answer; only a few seats down, Ginny poked her head forwards curiously and looked at Ron.

"What is it?" she asked.  Ron spluttered awkwardly for a moment, unable to form any intelligible words, and Hermione took this opportunity to whip out her wand.  To Harry's relief, she muttered a quick "_Silencio__!_" and turned to Ginny.

"He was just wondering if you'd brought any extra Skiving Snackboxes.  He forgot all his, but I told him he shouldn't be using them anyways."  Ginny looked at them oddly for a moment, but then shook her head and turned back to her conversation.  Hermione rounded on Ron, who had turned an angry shade of red.  "Do you realize what you almost did?"  Ron, who was still silenced, just gaped at her.  "You didn't even think about how much that would have embarrassed your sister?"  He responded by rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in frustration.  Hermione sighed and released the silencing charm, but Ron now seemed unwilling to talk now, and the rest of the meal was spent in uncomfortable silence.

Harry was eager to get away from the Great Hall and up to bed, since the lack of conversation made it nearly impossible for him to ignore the curious observation of Leah and her friends.  Thankfully, it wasn't long before both Ron and Hermione showed signs of exhaustion and the three of them trudged silently up to the Gryffindor common room.  Harry wished Hermione goodnight as she parted and went towards the girls' dormitories.

"'Night, Harry…" Hermione muttered, "'Night, Ron…."  Ron answered with a brief scowl, and Hermione gave a frustrated moan before she stalked away.  The boys climbed the stairs to their own beds, and it wasn't until the door shut behind them that Ron spoke.

"A bloody fan club!  She _should _be embarrassed!" he muttered.  Seamus and Dean listened with interest, but Ron said nothing more as he prepared for bed, shaking his head the whole time.  Harry couldn't help but grin at Ron's reaction, though he too was shocked at the idea of a Harry Potter Fan Club.  Nevertheless, life at Hogwarts seemed to be starting off at its usual pace, and it certainly felt good to be home.  He fell gladly into his four-poster, said 'goodnight' to Ron, Seamus, and Dean, and dropped into a deep, comfortable sleep.


	13. Another Fresh Start

Chapter 13:  Another Fresh Start

When Professor McGonagall passed out their new class schedules the next morning at breakfast, things really seemed to be back to normal.  Ron, as usual, groaned loudly as soon as he looked at his time-table.  McGonagall raised an eyebrow at him, but continued to shuffle through her stack until she pulled out Hermione's schedule and, finally, Harry's.

"Here you are…and….one minute, Mr. Potter…." She pulled a tidy little envelope from her pocket.  "This is also for you."  Without another word, she glided away down the table to hand out the rest of the schedules.

"Will you look at this?" Ron immediately asked.  "And I thought last year was supposed to be hard!  Nearly every lesson has been doubled…"

"Of course is going to be more challenging, Ron!  They're N.E.W.T. courses!  Anyways, you're taking fewer subjects this year, aren't you?" Hermione spoke casually, evidently not at all perturbed by her own schedule.  After glancing at his own schedule, Harry had to admit that he agreed with Ron.  How could he possibly handle so many classes?  He peeked curiously at Hermione's schedule and raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Well," he said to Ron, "It could be worse, it seems."  Ron looked at Hermione's cramped schedule and shook his head disapprovingly.  "Ouch!  Double-Potions first thing… Good luck!  You're going to need it….hey!  What're those hours at the bottom?"  Ron turned back to his own page.  "I have them too!  Two hours after dinner on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday…."

Harry checked.  "I've got them too," he said. "Wait!  No…I haven't got Thursday."  Hermione was also baffled over the unmarked hours, but she shrugged it off.

"I'm sure we'll find out by tomorrow, at least," she said optimistically, "What's in the envelope, Harry?"  

Harry gave her a blank look before remembering the envelope McGonagall had given him.  Now that he had been reminded, he looked closely at it and recognized Dumbledore's handwriting on the front.

_To Harry Potter—Do Not Open Unless Alone._

Hermione, who was peeking over his shoulder, made a face and seemed to be considering something.  

"When are you going to open it?" she asked matter-of-factly.

"Err…I don't know, next time I find myself alone, I guess."  Harry looked up to the teachers' table, but Dumbledore was busily talking to Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher.  Suddenly a thought came to Harry and he turned to Ron and Hermione.  "Hey, do you two know who the Defense professor is this year?  I don't see anybody new up there…"  Ron and Hermione both shrugged and looked up at the staff table as well.  

Eventually, they all finished eating, and Harry and Hermione steeled themselves for their first torturous Potions lesson of the year.  Ron, however, was nearly skipping as they made their way out of the Great Hall.

"No more dungeons for me!" Ron bragged as Harry shuffled towards the dark stairway unenthusiastically, "Muggle studies, here I come…anything's better than Snape."  

Harry waved halfheartedly as he and Hermione separated from Ron and made their way down to the dungeons.  "What a lovely way to start off the day," he grumbled, as Hermione made a sympathetic face.  Finally, they clomped down the last few steps to the dark, moist dungeon corridors and made their way to their usual potions classroom.  As they approached the door, Harry noticed a sign pinned next to the door.

"N.E.W.T. POTIONS LOCATED IN SOUTH DUNGEON," Hermione read aloud.  "Hmm, well I imagine this room is technically the West Dungeon, so….this way!" Harry followed as she marched down the right-hand hall, and eventually a large doorway appeared.  He could see students settling into their seats and he hurried through the door, not wanting to catch Snape's attention by entering once the rest had taken a seat.  Unfortunately, Snape seemed to have been waiting for him, for when Harry and Hermione entered, he violently marked the parchment that sat in front of him, and turned to the class.

"Well," he began, "Now that _Miss_ Granger and _Mr._ Potter have seen fit to join us, I believe everyone is hear and we may begin.  You will notice that this is a rather large class…" Harry did indeed notice the number of students in the great dungeon, and it took him only a moment to realize that the class was comprised of students from all of the four houses.  "As advanced students, I expect the most responsible behavior from all of you.  The slightest error can easily lead to disaster in a class of this size."  Snape glared at Harry for a moment, as if he thought Harry was more than likely to make an irresponsible mistake.  Harry returned the glare, but Snape looked away and continued talking.

"You will be brewing some of the most complicated and dangerous potions this year, because we will be covering some of the most interesting and useful potions.  Therefore, I think I shall start off with a little…_demonstration_ of what some these potions can do.  Are there any volunteers?"  A few Slytherins and even two Ravenclaw girls had their hands raised timidly, but Snape ignored them.

"Mr. Potter!  Come up here, please."  Harry looked suspiciously at Snape, but Hermione nudged him out of his seat and he found himself striding angrily towards the front of the dungeon.  He came to a stop just past the first row of tables, but Snape motioned impatiently for him to come closer. "Stand here, Potter.  I want to class to be able to see this.  Now, today's potion should have some very visible effects…" he cracked an evil grin, "Drink this, Potter."

"No," Harry said simply.

"No?  What do you think you're doing up here?"

"I'm not drinking anything if I don't know what it is."  Harry glared at Snape once again.  The professor seethed silently for a moment, but then spoke dangerously.

"I think, Potter, that you should learn to show a little respect."  He hesitated once again and Harry could feel dozens of eyes watching intently.  "However," Snape said at last, "Since you are _so_ anxious to know what it is…how about I tell you?  And if you're still opposed to drinking it, I shall just have to pick someone else…" Snape's eyes lingered on Hermione, and then suddenly he began listing off a variety of ingredients. 

"So, what is it Potter?  Can you be convinced to risk it or will I have to find another volunteer?"  Harry moaned inwardly as he gave Snape a sarcastic smile, trying to hide the fact that he was frantically trying to piece together the ingredients.     

The majority of them were items that he had used regularly for the past five years; they could be components of anything from a sleeping draught to a potent poison.  Snape knew he wouldn't be able to name the potion that was made with this exact combination!  But, then again……Harry seemed to recall that only a very few potions used kneezle hairs…and he'd only once heard of lacewings used without knotgrass… 

_A Disintegrating Solution?_Harry wasn't sure how he knew that this was what the potion was, but somehow he was sure.  He looked up at Snape in shock.  He knew the greasy git was mean, but would he really go so far as to disintegrate a student?  Wasn't this the sort of potion meant to be used on things like pests and messes? 

"Sir," Harry said with disbelief, "A Disintegrating Solution?"  He didn't know what else to say he was so shocked.  Snape couldn't be serious.  Though the professor looked slightly surprised that Harry had recognized the potion, he nodded unpleasantly.

"Yes, Potter, a temporary, very _specific_ Disintegrating Solution.  I assure you, it will do you no harm."  He smirked.  "Or would you prefer not to take it?"

Harry looked for a moment at Hermione, who looked back at him anxiously.  Then, without hesitation he reached for the vial.  Still glaring at Snape, he downed its entire contents in one gulp.

"So what's it going to be dissolving, then?" he asked bitterly.  Snape's mouth curled up.

"Let's just say, you may want to consider purchasing a wig."  The Slytherin students laughed loudly and several other people began to mutter excitedly.  Harry's eyes grew wide and he instinctively reached to his hair.  For a moment he was relieved to find it still there, but then he realized that the potion was merely slow-acting, because as he held his hand to his head he felt his hair beginning to shrink away.  His muscles tensed as he remembered back to the time, all those years ago, when Aunt Petunia had tried to shave off his unruly hair.  Then he had mysteriously grown the hair back overnight.  This time, he'd be forced to walk the halls hairless for weeks.  

As he felt his hair dwindling down almost completely, he scrunched his face up, leaving one eye squinting as he tried uselessly to look up to his hair with the other.  Desperately, he wished he knew how to grow it at will like he had so many years ago.  He remembered how upset Aunt Petunia had been when she saw him with a full head of hair, but Harry had been too delighted to care how it had happened.  All he remembered was spending hours thinking about the ridicule he would face and wishing with all his might that he had his hair back…..

Suddenly, the laughter from the Slytherins stopped and students around the room gasped and became silent.  Harry opened his other eye and strained to look upwards as he reached his hand to his head once again, expecting to feel a smooth, hairless surface.  To his surprise, his fingers rested on a full, thick head of hair.  Without thinking, he ran his hand through his messy hair, making his usual attempt to smooth it, and with an angry look at Snape, he handed back the empty vial and walked silently back to his desk.

Snape didn't say a word.  His features were frozen in an expression of disbelief and rage.  He whipped around his desk, slamming the vial onto the surface violently and without a word he started putting notes on the board.  The silence in the chamber was immediately replaced by the sound of scratching quills and rustling parchment as the students feverishly set to work copying notes.  The rest of the lesson was passed in this manner, with students looking away from their parchments every once and awhile to glance back at Harry suspiciously.    

When class finally ended, Hermione and Harry were the first to make it out the door.  They hurried upstairs, trying to separate themselves from the rest of the class, and headed towards the Charms classroom.  About halfway there, Hermione pulled Harry off to the left, into an empty corridor.

"What happened?" she asked immediately, gesturing towards his hair.

"You tell me!  Maybe his precious potion wasn't made right?"  Harry shrugged noncommittally, but he didn't really believe his own suggestion.

"Come on, Harry!  I seriously doubt Severus Snape ever messes up a potion."

"Oh, is that why you were so eager for me to go drink one?"

"Well, I'm sorry!  I just thought it was a good way to avoid getting in trouble.  It could have been a lot worse though." She truly did look sorry and Harry felt his anger melting.

"Ha!" he replied sarcastically, "Yeah, I could be bald right now!"  They both laughed, but as they continued on their way to Charms, Hermione's face grew serious again and she spoke, wondering aloud what _had_ happened in the dungeon.  Harry couldn't help but wonder right along with her.

They arrived at Professor Flitwick's classroom slightly behind most of the other Gryffindors, and judging from the sudden silence that overtook the room as they entered, rumors of Harry's escapades in Potions had also preceded him.  The two made their way to the far side of the room, where Ron sat, saving them seats.  He watched them approach, sending questioning looks their way, and as they threw down their books he leaned towards them.

"What's this about a potion?" he whispered.  Harry clenched his jaw.

"Snape," he spat.  Hermione turned to Ron and tried to give a more detailed explanation.  

"That piece of—!"

"Ron!" Hermione cut him off quickly, nodding towards the Flitwick, who had just entered the room.

"Seriously!  Is he allowed to do that?"  Ron's ears were turning scarlet, meanwhile, his sympathetic anger was starting to make Harry feel much better about the whole thing.  Ron continued in a lower voice, "So what happened?  Did you drink it?" 

"Yeah," Harry admitted, "He would've picked Hermione if I hadn't."  Hermione nodded.  Ron looked confused.

"But…so…so it didn't work then?  That's a first!"

"Oh, it worked.  Harry was bald for about ten seconds, but then…" Ron was listening eagerly, and Harry noticed that several other people were eavesdropping on Hermione as well.  "Then…then he wasn't."

Harry shrugged at Ron and squirmed uncomfortably as his friends looked at him.  Thankfully, the professor chose this moment to start that class, and they spent the next hour or so hearing about the curriculum of this years N.E.W.T. Charms class and practicing some new, elaborate wand movements.  By lunchtime, Harry had decided to forget about the unexplainable event from that morning, and his mood had improved considerably.  He was eagerly looking forward to his Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, and then perhaps going out for a relaxing fly on his broom before Hermione forced his nose into a book.  He was happily imagining himself flying over the grounds when Hermione pulled him back to reality all of the sudden.

"You guys!  Look!  It's Draco…."  She spoke in a whisper as she pointed down the corridor at the slim form of Draco Malfoy.

"Wonder why he's walking alone?"  Harry mused quietly.  His friends exchanged looks.

"He was alone on the train, too.  Evidently, Crabbe and Goyle haven't returned this year…" Ron looked positively delighted at this, but Hermione shook her head seriously.

"It's odd isn't it?  I mean, why is Draco back?  His father was imprisoned for being a Death Eater for goodness sakes!  You'd think he'd want to transfer somewhere far away from Dumbledore."  

Harry found himself wondering if it was possible that Draco might not be as evil as his father was.  Would Lucius' own son dare to stand against him and turn instead to the protection of someone like Dumbledore?  Then again, perhaps there was a reason for Draco to return to Hogwarts?  Voldemort had mentioned Lucius' "plans" at Hogwarts.  Could Draco be involved?  

Though Harry felt considerably better now that he had been allowed to join the Order, he was still painfully aware of how little he knew about what was going on.  Hearing the snippet from Voldemort's little meeting had only raised more questions, it seemed.  How had all of those Death Eaters managed to escape Azkaban?  Where was Bellatrix and what was she up to?  Was Nagini at Hogwarts at this very moment, following Harry and gathering information?  He shuddered at the thought and decided that it might be best to visit Dumbledore and try to get some answers; the wise old wizard always seemed to know more than he let on.

At the thought of Dumbledore, Harry remembered the letter from this morning, so, with a meaningful look, he told Ron and Hermione to go ahead on to lunch.  As soon as they were out of sight and Harry was sure that he was completely alone, he reached into his bag to retrieve the little envelope.  Upon ripping it open, he found a small note asking him to please meet the headmaster in his office at seven that evening _"With your wand."  _Harry took only a moment to wonder what it was he'd be needing his wand for, and then he quickly did as the letter instructed him to and destroyed the whole thing with a flick of his wand.  The pages disappeared with a puff of smoke, and Harry continued on his way to lunch.

He had a bit of trouble spotting Ron and Hermione as he entered the Great Hall, for they were in the center of a tight group of Gryffindors who were eagerly discussing something.  As Harry approached, Ron shot him a look of warning, but a second later, he had been spotted.  The knot of students broke up as Harry arrived at the table; several younger students scurried off to their own seats, and the older students immediately stopped talking and forced their attention back onto their plates.  Both Ron and Hermione looked quite relieved, but said nothing as Harry took his seat.  

"Sorry," he said awkwardly, aware that the commotion was probably a result of the rumors flitting around the school about his wild hair-growing abilities, "They shouldn't be badgering you two…"

"Oh, please!  It's not your fault they're all nosey, little…..well, you know what I mean.  Anyways, we didn't tell them anything." Hermione pulled out a book and balanced it on front of her plate rather aggressively.

"Didn't tell them anything?" Ron echoed, "Oh, I don't know about that…what was it you said to them?  'Bugger off, or I'll give you something to gossip about'…?"  Hermione flushed but both Ron and Harry grinned.

"Thanks, you two," Harry said with a sigh, glad that Ron and Hermione weren't insisting on discussing the event further, but he jumped as another voice spoke behind him.

"So it's true then?"  Ginny sat down next to him, throwing her bag to the floor and grinning.  "Harry Potter is gifted with not only spectacular Quidditch reflexes, but also the ability to grow his hair at will?"  Harry groaned and dropped his head into his hands, wondering if it would have been wiser to remain bald.  Perhaps that would have drawn less attention?

Ginny laughed.  "Aw, Harry!  It's not that bad.  Most people don't believe it anyway, and it's really not a big deal."  She reached up a hand to tousle his hair.  "Ooh!  Harry, your hair's _really_ soft!  Who knew Disintegrating potions were such good conditioners?  Maybe I'll ask Snape to borrow some…"  She laughed again as he tried to fight off Ron, who was unable to resist the temptation to ruffle Harry's hair himself.

Thankfully, the conversation turned to other topics soon enough.  Ginny moaned over her upcoming O.W.L.s; evidently the professors had already started warning the fifth years about the strenuous studying they'd be doing in the upcoming months.  

"And what's this class we have after dinner tomorrow and the next two days?"  She pointed to the class the trio had been discussing that morning.  They shook their head at her, equally baffled. 

"How about Defense—have any of you heard who's teaching?  Dumbledore didn't say a word about it last night," Ron pointed out.

"Yeah…and what about Hagrid?  I haven't heard anything about him since…well, since the meeting."  Harry jabbed his fork at Ron for emphasis, but ended up splattering potpie all over the table and his friend.  "Oops!  Sorry…"

"We had Grubbly-Plank for the lesson this morning," Ginny offered, "And both Colin and I tried asking about Hagrid, but she wouldn't say anything."  Harry frowned, feeling slightly guilty for not asking about Hagrid sooner.  Lupin might have known something or…

"Tonks!"  Hermione glared at Harry as he suddenly cried out.  He lowered his voice to a whisper, "Sorry!  But maybe Tonks would know what's up with Hagrid!"  He leaned over the table conspiratorially.  Hermione considered it.

"I suppose so…but I haven't seen her since last night," she replied quietly.  It seemed that none of them had seen her, and so they left lunch feeling decidedly unsatisfied.  The three waved good-bye to Ginny and eagerly made their way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, wondering who they would find there.


	14. Eye Opener

Chapter 14:  Eye Opener

The chatter and ruckus that typified the Hogwarts corridors was still in full swing as the trio arrived at the Defense classroom.  Harry couldn't remember being this excited for a lesson since his first year at school; it was taking all of his efforts to keep a silly grin off his face as he reached at last for the handle of the door.

"I don't know what you're so chuffed about, Harry!" Rom griped, though he was smirking at Harry's giddiness, "With our luck, it's bound to be another stupid prat like—bloody hell!  Dumbledore!"

"_Professor_ Dumbledore is quite alright, Mr. Weasley, but if you insist….I'm sure I could grow accustomed to the new address…"  The headmaster's eyes twinkled with amusement as he stood at the front of the classroom, watching Ron turn a deep, reddish color.  Harry stood, rooted to the spot.  It was as if his brain had stopped, and the only parts of him that did seem to be working were his eyebrows, which were now working overtime, apparently trying to jump right off his face.  Dumbledore turned to give him a small smile, and for some reason Harry suddenly felt a confusing sense of bitterness well up inside of him.  He frowned slightly as Hermione pulled him towards the last few empty seats, wondering if perhaps he was still feeling a hint of Voldemort's hatred for Dumbledore.

With an effort, Harry managed to focus his attention back on the headmaster, who was in the midst of explaining this year's Defense curriculum.  Harry was very pleased to learn that this was one of two N.E.W.T. level Defense classes this year, and the more advanced of the two.  He looked around him briefly and discovered that almost all of his classmates were former D.A. members.

 "All of the students in this room," Dumbledore said slowly, '"Scored in the top ninety-ninth percentile on last year's Ordinary Wizarding Level Defense examination.  Your scores set the scale for all of the young witches and wizards to take the test last year, and never in the history of the O.W.L. system has there been such a large representation of high-scorers in one school.  It is for this reason that I am most eager to take up the post of professor for this subject.  You have been assigned to this advanced class because of the promise you show in the art of defense.  In this class, you will have the opportunity to enhance your skills, and in doing such you will become some of the most valuable members of our society.  You should all be aware of the increasing danger in our world.  We will need to do everything in our power to stand against the threat of the dark forces, and as some of the most outstanding Defense students, it is vital that you are correctly trained and allowed to reach your full potential."

'So,' Harry thought, 'You've decided that it might be a good idea to take this subject seriously?'  He sighed, unable to stop himself from thinking about how his life might be different if he and his classmates had been better trained years ago.  However, his thoughts were interrupted by a low chuckle coming from behind him, followed by sarcastic muttering.

"Well, isn't it nice that the old fool's finally got a clue?"  Harry turned slightly in his seat surprised that he hadn't noticed anyone sitting behind him, and to his shock he saw Draco Malfoy slumped over the corner desk, letting his head hang down and looking bored.  Harry turned back to the front, unnerved at the similarity between his and Draco's thoughts.  Dumbledore seemed to be finishing the speech as Harry once again focused his attention on the old wizard.

"..However, this class is not mandatory, and if anyone wishes to enroll in the regular N.E.W.T. Defense class, I'd be more than happy to accommodate you."  He looked around the room, as if waiting for someone to speak up, but it was obvious that no one planned to drop this class.   Dumbledore seemed satisfied, and went on in a somewhat less dramatic tone of voice.  "In a moment, I'll be giving you a full introduction to the material we will be covering in the course, but first, there are a few issues to address.

"The first is castle security.  Along with the other faculty and some very helpful friends, I've spent the last few months strengthening the protective wards around Hogwarts.  Not surprisingly, there may be some changes in the rules.  A fully updated list will be posted in each common room, and I am confident that you will all take these regulations seriously, as they are for your own safety.  The other issue has to do with your schedules.  Most of you have probably noticed the additional lessons scheduled for Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday evenings."  Several people nodded.  "This is part of a school-wide effort to increase practical defense levels.  Two times a week, you will be participating in special training courses.  On Thursdays, you will be expected to meet with the rest of your housemates to share your knowledge.  At least four students have been selected from each house; two sixth years and two seventh years.  I believe most of you are among those students selected. Are there any questions?"

A petite, dark-haired girl raised her hand confidently and Dumbledore turned to her with a smile.  "Yes, Miss Moon?"

"Are your practical evening lessons going to augment your regular lessons?" she asked in a business-like manner.  Harry marveled at the girl's efficiency; she had her quill poised over a spotless parchment, ready to take down the answer.  

"It is quite possible…however, I think it is perhaps more likely that _my_ lessons will augment the material you cover in the _evening_ lessons."  He shrugged.  "I really can't say.  What you learn in the evening classes will be left to the discretion of your instructor."  The girl looked up sharply.

"Aren't you teaching it, then?"  She looked scandalized.  Harry suddenly felt an urgent desire to run.  Hermione glanced over as he slid his chair back, poising himself to push away from the desk.

"Actually, no," the headmaster admitted, "I was fortunate enough to secure a much better teacher—one who ran a group of this sort last year…."  Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.  "Mr. Potter."

All heads whipped around to face him, and Harry found himself staring back into eleven sets of eyes.  From behind him, he heard Draco let out an irritated moan, and for the second time that day, Harry was forced to notice how much he could relate to his not-so-friendly Slytherin classmate.  Once again, Harry felt a surge of annoyance and anger.  Not only was he obliged to return to school, potentially endangering his friends, but Dumbledore was expecting him to teach Slytherins…the son of a Death Eater!  Harry managed to smile half-heartedly at some of the other students, but he found that he couldn't bring himself to look at Dumbledore.  

Soon enough, Dumbledore began talking about the topics they'd be covering this year.  Harry, however, found it difficult to pay very close attention, for every time he looked up at the professor, his mind began to fill with visions of the discussion he'd have with Dumbledore after dinner tonight.  He was still scowling when class was released half an hour later.  He was the first one out the door, as he did not want to risk being stopped for a chat with Dumbledore – or anyone else, for that matter; in his current mood, he didn't trust himself to remain friendly.

Ron and Hermione burst out of the room a few steps behind Harry, still adjusting their backpacks.  Together, they hurried to catch up with him as he stormed down the hallway.

"Harry!" Ron said, huffing slightly, "What's up?  What's the matter?"  Harry turned to look at his friend without slowing his pace.  Ron, and Hermione beside him, were facing him with confused and worried looks.  Harry took a breath, preparing to explain, but then realized that he couldn't explain.

"I…I don't know…I just…"  He sighed.  "Look, can we just go to the common room and relax or something?  I need to breathe…"

"Can't," Hermione said at once.  "I've got Arithmancy."  Harry nodded, remembering her hectic schedule.  Ron stared at her as if she had just spoken in Gobbledegook.  Hermione rolled her eyes, but turned to Harry with a patient, caring look.  "I'll just see you two at dinner, okay?  Why don't you go take a nap or something, Harry?  You look awful already…"  Shaking her head, she turned and dashed away down the hall.  Harry turned to Ron, his expression darkening.

"I'm so sick of hearing that from everyone," he mumbled.  Ron shrugged, but grinned slightly.

"Well, maybe you should stop looking so awful, then."  Harry swatted at him lazily, but Ron dodged easily.  Unfortunately for him though, he ran right into a nearby suit of armor, and within ten seconds the racket had caught the attention of about ten first years down the hall.  Harry's scowl finally melted as he watched his friend try to extricate himself from the mound of metal while the first years watched with interest.  By the time the two boys reached the Gryffindor common room, they were both laughing too hard to give the password.

They collapsed heavily against the wall outside the common room to catch their breath.  Harry leaned his head back against the cool stone and let his arms fall loosely to the floor, while Ron propped his arms up on his knees, his head lolling forward like a broken puppet, trying to breath deeply.  Finally, he managed a big yawn and lifted his head to look at Harry.

"Tough day already, eh?" he groaned, still breathing quickly.  Harry nodded silently and slid his feet forwards so that his legs were sprawled out in front of him.  Ron seemed to hesitate for a moment before he spoke again.  "So…are you alright?"  Harry sighed.

"I don't know what my problem is," he admitted, "I mean, I should be happy to have Dumbledore teaching Defense this year, and I really am glad to be part of the Order now, but…"  He paused.  "It just seems like…like I'm trapped."  He turned to see Ron's reaction, but saw only a disheveled head of red hair as Ron once again faced the floor.  It was a moment before Ron lifted his head again, looking serious.

"Trapped?" he repeated.  Harry shrugged.

"Just…trapped, like I don't have any room to move, any choice."

"Well,"  Ron began, looking uncomfortable, "Depending on how you look at it, you _don't_ have a choice, at least according to the prophecy…but on the other hand…that's basically what the prophecy is, isn't it?  A choice."  Harry shook his head in frustration.

"But…I don't mean the prophecy.  _That_ I know I have a choice, and I know what I choose.  What bothers me is…well, _everything_!  I mean, last year after…after the whole thing at the Ministry, that's when Dumbledore told me about the prophecy and I was so…_angry_.  I was _so_ mad because Dumbledore knew, he knew all along, and he never told me until it was too late!  Like I was too stupid to understand, too useless to deal with it."  Harry fiddled with his wand, pausing momentarily.  "Now though, I'm just so tired of it, you know?  My whole life I've just been tossed around.  Everyone else decides where I belong, what's best for me…" Ron laughed grimly.

"You think it's any different for anyone else?  What do you think parents do?"

"I know…" Harry admitted, "But today, I just go so annoyed at Dumbledore.  It was like I could see right through him.  All this stuff about D.A., or whatever it's called now, is just his way of making sure I came back to Hogwarts.  I mean really, Quidditch captain?  Just last year he said he thought I had too much on my plate to handle more responsibility, and now I can handle teaching and being captain, and who-knows-what he has planned on top of that!  The point is, he doesn't need me for that if he's going to teach Defense.  What do I know that he doesn't?  It's like a joke!  He's just finding a sneaky way to make me do what he wants, and I don't care whether it's the best thing for me or not; I want to have some say over my life.  _He's_ not my parent!"  At this, Ron laughed outright, and Harry looked at him quizzically.  "What?"

"I think you'd have a hard time convincing him of that."

"_What?_"

"Harry!"  Ron chuckled, "You practically live in his office, you write to him over holidays, he gives you Christmas presents, Harry!  Don't try to tell me you aren't like a son to him…or at least a grandson."  

"I don't write to him!" Harry argued, "And that invisibility cloak was my dad's."

"Whatever.  The point is, for what it's worth, you probably have about seven parents.  You're Harry Potter; everyone's looking out for you and trying to do what's right."

"Well…" Harry retorted uncertainly, taken aback by Ron's sudden understanding, not to mention his listening skills, "I'm not so sure I want them to."  Ron grinned and hoisted himself to his feet before extending a hand to Harry.

"Welcome to the club, mate."

*****

At dinner that evening, Harry was relieved to find that most of the gossip about his mysterious hair-growing had calmed down.  However, the news of his new position as a Defense trainer had already spread to all houses.  Though the attention was certainly more positive that the curious whispering of earlier today, it was just as unwelcome.  From every direction, he was receiving shouts of "Hey, Professor Potter!" and "Good evening, Sir!", and the most disturbing thing was the fact that many of the first years seemed quite serious.  

However, he couldn't be as miserable as he was this afternoon; talking with Ron had lightened his mood considerably, and both of them were taking advantage of the meal to enjoy themselves.  Feeling like first years, they happily accepted an unspoken challenge to fling spoonfuls of mashed potatoes at each other, while avoiding detection from Hermione, all the while keeping up a serious discussion of Quidditch tactics.  Just as Harry was reaching for another pile of potatoes, feeling confident that he was ahead, Hermione looked up from her book to say something and received a wad of starchy goodness to the mouth.  Ron, who had been the one responsible for the missile, seemed to count this as a high-scorer and was in the midst of a triumphant cheer when the sound of a book slamming against the table brought him back to reality.

'Ronald Weasley!  How old are you, exactly?"  She looked at him, fuming.  "Last time I checked, you were a sixth year _prefect_!"  Ron turned back to his plate, wisely opting to keep his silence, but he couldn't prevent the small smile.  Predictably, Hermione then turned to address Harry, who feigned a sudden interest in buttering some bread.  "And you!  Harry James Potter!  You are a role model and a _teacher_, for heaven's sake!  You think you might want to act like it?  And _why _are you buttering a whole loaf of bread?"  

Harry was searching for a good reply when something warm and thick collided with the side of his face.  Hermione whipped around to spot the culprit, but found herself facing a grinning Ginny.  Finally, she gave up and laughed along with everyone else, but it was clear that the night's potato wars had reached their end.  As they made their way out of the Great Hall, Hermione was giving her two friends a light lecture on their responsibilities as upperclassmen.  Ron and Harry were taking turns nodding unenthusiastically until she seemed on the verge of wrapping up.

"Honestly," she muttered, "I don't think I've seen the two of you so hyper since…I don't know…years!  What in the world put you in such a mood?  What do you do when I'm in class?"  They both shrugged noncommittally and continued walking.  As they came up to the hallway that led to Dumbledore's office, Harry told them he'd see them later and made his way to the headmaster's spiral staircase, wondering how long he'd have to spend guessing the password.  As it turned out, he needn't have worried, for as he approached the statue that guarded the entrance, it moved aside without a sound.  Now feeling slightly nervous, Harry mounted the stairs and made his way up to the all-too-familiar office.  Dumbledore waved him in politely as he reached the doorway, and as he stepped into the warm, bright office, he felt the door close smoothly behind him.  

"Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore said pleasantly.

"Evening, sir."  Harry let his eyes wonder around the cozy office, noting vaguely that it was back to its usual order.  For a moment, he felt a pang of regret over his behavior at the end of last year, but he was distracted before he had time to dwell on it. 

"Ginger snap?"

"No, thank you."

"Mashed potatoes?"  Harry's eyes widened in surprise, but Dumbledore gave no indication of joking as he held a small dish in his right hand.  There was, however, a familiar twinkling starting in the old wizard's eyes, and Harry laughed in spite of himself.

"No, thank you, sir!  I think I had plenty at dinner."

"Indeed!  Well, in that case, to business!  I asked you to meet me tonight because I have several matters to discuss with you.  For the most part, they have to do with the Order of the Phoenix, so I suppose that would be the best place to start.

"Though you have already attended a meeting, technically you have not become an official member of the group."  Dumbledore turned to a small table at his left and retrieved a small, but official-looking roll of parchment.  "In order to consider yourself a member of the Order of the Phoenix, you must sign your name on this roster, agreeing to all the terms and requirements of the group."  He passed the parchment to Harry, who was surprised to find no list of names.

"Sir?  Has everyone signed this?"

"Yes.  You won't, however, see those names.  A convenient protective charm has been placed on the page in case the roster falls into unsavory hands.  Once you sign, your name will also disappear, but the very act of signing seals the contract magically."  Harry nodded slightly and began reading the terms of membership.

_We, the undersigned, vow to do everything in our power to promote and protect secure and peaceful existence for mankind, magical and muggle alike.  When the need arises, we promise to serve on the side of peace and cooperation and to stand up against any who wish to endanger these goals.  We swear to uphold the secrecy and honor of this organization, and we will put our trust in each other.  With the signing on this document, I place myself under the protection of the group and offer my services in the effort to achieve these noble goals._

Harry signed without hesitation, reasoning to himself that, for the most part, he was already living under the law of the Order.  He watched with interested as his own signature sunk into the parchment, reminding him of a fated diary he had dealt with in his second year.  Then, a curious sensation came over Harry; he felt warm and cold at the same time.  This rippling feeling ran through his body quickly, and before he knew it, it seemed to collect at his hand.  His palm tingled slightly, and when Harry looked down at it, he saw a shape forming.  In seconds, the shape took on weight and form, and Harry found himself holding a small, gold pin in the shape of a phoenix.  Dumbledore smiled at him.

"The pin is a concentration of your own unique magical energy.  If you wear it always, the Order can use it as a way to locate you in an emergency.  Also, you will find that, as an extension of your own magic, it will serve you well in dire situations.  Finally—and you may tell Miss Granger that I thank her for the inspiration—the pins have now been modified to act as signals, both to summon you for meetings or assistance, and to warn you of any nearby threats."  Harry marveled at the little pin and wondered where he was supposed to fasten it.  Dumbledore stood up and continued talking casually.

"As you know, it is often vital that Order information be kept completely secret.  You and I are both aware of your special…_situation _with regard to Voldemort.  Luckily, Snape has assured me that the possibility of the Dark Lord taking advantage of your mind is no longer a consideration.  However, for your own sake and everyone else's, I would like permission to get proof of this myself."  The headmaster stopped, looking at him expectantly, and for a moment Harry didn't understand what he was asking.

"Sir…?  You want to…you want me to prove…what?"  

"Harry, I'd like to attempt to get into your thoughts…to try to break down this barrier Snape has described."  Harry's eyes widened.

"Er…okay, then.  What do I have to do?"

"Nothing at all.  Just relax and we shall see what happens."  With that, Dumbledore drew his wand and pointed it in Harry's direction.  Almost immediately, Harry felt a dull throbbing behind his eyes.  His brow furrowed as he tried to ignore the irritating pain, but only a moment later the pain seemed to double.  Harry grimaced unhappily and scrunched his eyes shut as the pressure in his head seemed to build up, and he could almost hear the throbbing in his head.  Finally, the pain stopped, and within seconds the pressure and throbbing had completely disappeared.  Breathing out in relief, Harry turned to Dumbledore and found the older wizard in much worse condition than himself.

"Professor?"  He wasn't sure what to do, but Dumbledore gave him a weak gesture, indicating that it was nothing to worry about.

"I'm quite alright, Harry," he said pleasantly as he lowered himself into his chair once again and reached for a small tin.  Harry watched as he popped a small morsel into his mouth and his discomfort seemed to melt away.  "Ahh!  Much better!  Well, Severus was right about two things:  Your thoughts are certainly safe and protected, and you most certainly _do _have the uncanny ability to give one a severe headache!"  Harry would've been a bit insulted by this last comment, had Dumbledore not been laughing as he said it.  He was relatively sure, though, that Snape had been much more serious.

"Now that that's out of the way," Dumbledore continued, "There are a few other issues.  For one thing, it is very important that you be able to apparate.  The next meeting is not for a week or so, so we should have plenty of time to prepare you."

"Actually," Harry said, "Remus lent me a book and…well, I think I've pretty much got it under control already."

"Really?"  Dumbledore sounded delighted and intrigued.  Harry nodded modestly.

"Yes.  We tried practicing when we were still at The Cottage…"

"Aha!"  Dumbledore smiled secretively.  "And you were able to apparate successfully?"

"Yes.  We all were."  

"All of you?"  Suddenly his face grew serious, perhaps even confused.

"Yeah.  It wasn't so hard, really.  Remus' book was really helpful…what is it?"  Harry recognized a pensive look on Dumbledore's face.  Dumbledore shook his head slowly.

"Harry, your parents left that house steeped in protective charms, one of the strongest being an anti-apparation charm.  Now, it is one thing for you, the technical owner and master of the house, to be able to ignore the charm, but it is quite impossible for your friends to have apparated on the Potter premises."  Harry stared at him, only now remembering what Remus had said about not being able to apparate in Potter Cottage.  But then, how could he explain the fact that his three friends, along with himself, had found it so easy to circumvent the protections?

"Professor…what does this mean?  Have the charms failed?"

"I'm not sure, Harry.  This is something that I will have to look into…it is very curious…"  He tapped his fingertips against each other thoughtfully, and then returned his attention to Harry.  "In any case, I'm glad to hear you have been able to apparate.  We'll have to find a suitable place for you to demonstrate for me; I want to make sure you have it mastered.  Also, since you don't need occlumency lessons, I think we might proceed to legilimency.  I believe you have this time reserved on your weekly schedule?"  Harry nodded.  "Excellent.  I think it best that our meetings remain secret; we don't know who might be listening, and I know you are quite aware of the importance of keeping a low profile this year."  Harry nearly laughed out loud.  A low profile?  Judging from today's events, that was not going to be any easier this year than it had been in the past.

"Along with legilimency, I'll be teaching you some very advanced dueling and defensive skills, which brings me to my next topic: Your D.A. classes."  Harry squirmed in his seat, torn between being completely honest and being polite and civil.  In the end, he decided to try for both and opened his mouth to speak.

"Professor," he started, "Don't you think it's a bit…silly to ask me to teach when you are already teaching defense?   Last year was different; we didn't have a competent teacher, but now…what can I show that you won't have already shown in class?"

"Actually, as I explained in class, my Defense lessons will focus on the physical aspects of dueling and defense.  The students won't be learning any new spells from me.  That will be your responsibility.  I was not exaggerating when I said that I was lucky to get you to teach; you cannot deny that you are a natural leader."  Harry sighed, still not convinced, and suddenly wished he had paid more attention to Dumbledore in class earlier today.

"Well," he asked, "What would you recommend I start off with?  I'd feel a little stupid trying to teach summoning charms to a bunch of sixth and seventh years."

"You may be surprised, Harry.  I suggest that you _do_ start with the basics.  After all, your students will need to be proficient enough to pass their knowledge on to their younger housemates.  However, as the year goes on, I may be able to help you decide on some good spells.  Of course, one of the main reasons you are teaching is your experience.  You may want to consider using one night for practical lessons and the other night for more theoretical lessons.  I will leave it up to you."  Harry nodded for what seemed like the fiftieth time.  "If it's alright with you, Harry, perhaps we can get started on your legilimency and defense training next time?  It seems that my headache has returned and I might just have to seek a cure more potent than lemon drops…"

Harry agreed, glad to have some time to relax, though he found that he was very eager to begin training.  So, he said goodnight and began the journey back to the common room, still a bit suspicious of Dumbledore's motives, but feeling bad about giving him a headache. 


	15. Business As Usual

Hi hi!  Sorry it took so long to update, but thanks to all of you who are reading!  I really appreciate the reviews as well!!!  I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 15:  Business As Usual

At last, he reached the portrait guarding the common room.  He muttered the password and the painting swung open, revealing the cheery, comfortable resting place of the Gryffindors.

Scattered throughout the large common room, Gryffindors were chattering happily and relaxing.  Most were winding down after the first grueling day of classes, but as Harry approached the table where his friends sat, he wasn't surprised to see that Hermione was already studying hard.  He grinned quietly at the familiar scene; Hermione sat comfortably, her eyes glued to a thick text book, and Ron sat next to her, slouching unhappily over a mess of parchment and books.  With a sigh of relief, Harry sank into a fluffy armchair, suddenly feeling quite exhausted.  He looked lazily at his surroundings, and for the first time realized how lucky he and his friends were to claim this spot as their own.  Though there were many tables lining the edges of the great round room, this one had several very desirable features.  Like most of the tables, it stood beside a window overlooking the grounds, and from this particular spot, Harry had a direct view of Hagrid's cabin by the Forbidden Forest.  The table was conveniently situated between two large, cushy sofas, and even had a couple of soft armchairs, and it was somewhat separated from the noise and action of the rest of the room.  In Harry's opinion, however, the most pleasant thing about their spot was the proximity to the large, warm fireplace.  He could relax and stare for hours into the bright, dancing flames—a perfect distraction from homework.  He dragged his eyes away from the blaze and found that Hermione had set aside her book and was now looking at him with a strange expression.

"Hey, Hermione," he yawned.

"Hey," she said, her face returning to its usual cheeriness, "How was it?"  Harry looked at her for a moment, trying to remember if he had told her where he was going.  No.  He had specifically avoided it, following Dumbledore's instructions to keep the meeting a secret.  On the other hand, where else would he have gone?  Hermione was bound to figure it out, especially having seen the note Harry received at breakfast.

"It was fine…" Harry answered finally.  He hoped she didn't push for more information, because he wasn't sure how safe it was to talk about such matters, even in his own common room.  He scowled at the thought, and tried to find something else to think about.  His eyes fell on Ron, who, he now noticed, wasn't slaving miserably over his work.  Instead, he seemed to be enjoying it.  His brows were furrowed in concentration as he sat, utterly engrossed in a perfectly ordinary looking book.  Harry turned to Hermione with a questioning look, but it seemed that she had only just noticed as well.  "What are you reading, Ron?"  Harry asked, turning back to his friend.

Ron looked up, caught off guard for a moment.  "Oh, just some stuff for Muggle Studies...it's bloody interesting, actually.  Too bad you're in Potions!  You wouldn't believe some of the stuff these muggles come up with…chemistry…physics…_airpranes_!"  Harry and Hermione both laughed.

"Ron, we grew up with that stuff!  And it's air_planes_, not airpranes."  Hermione corrected him, but seemed pleased at his fascination with the subject.  Harry had to admit, it was one of the few times he had seen Ron so interested in a lesson.  Unfortunately, it reminded him how uninterested he was in his own homework  Since today's Defense lesson had been mainly introductory, and they had only reviewed in Charms, the only real homework Harry had was an essay for Snape, and he certainly was not in the mood to do that.  On the other hand, he wasn't sure if he'd have any time to get it done tomorrow night, what with the first DA lesson, so dragged himself upstairs to get his books.  

When he returned to the common room a few minutes later, he found Ron and Hermione in the midst of an animated discussion.  As Harry sat down and began dumping his books onto the cluttered tabletop, he realized that, for once, Ron was the one doing most of the talking, while Hermione listened patiently.

"But it's true, Hermione!  You say Divination's a crock, but you _can_ make predictions about the future!  Muggles do it all the time…without any magic at all!" 

"Divination _is_ a crock, and muggles don't just predict the future with tea leaves and nonsense! They use information and measurements!"

"I _know_!" Ron agreed excitedly, "That's whats so amazing!  It works!  Look….these people use machines to find out what the weather's gonna be like—"

"Meteorologists."

"Yes!  And they can predict whether you'll get sick or not….genetikits…?"

"Well….I don't know, Ron.  It's all just probabilities…"  Ron ignored her as he reached for another book.

"And _this_," he shoved the book towards her triumphantly, "This is how muggles predict people's futures!"  Harry raised an eyebrow, fairly certain that most muggles didn't really believe in fortune telling.  Leaning over Hermione's shoulder, he saw the title of the book:  _Muggle__ Psychology_.

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh.  "Ron, psychology isn't predicting futures.  It's studying peoples' minds and thoughts and things."

"Exactly.  If you figure out someone's thoughts, you can figure out what they're going to do, right?"  Hermione looked unconvinced and Harry hid his face in a book, wanting to stay out of it.  "Look," Ron continued tirelessly, "Say you know someone really well…a friend or something.  And you know how their mind works and what they care about and everything like that, right?"  Hermione nodded.  "So, how hard is it to guess how they'll react to stuff?  Isn't that psychology?"  

"Yes…but that still doesn't mean you can predict my future."

Ron grinned.  "Sure it does."

"Okay, fine! Go ahead, then."  Ron's grin widened momentarily, but he quickly put on a serious face and spoke gravely.

"I predict," he began, rubbing his temples with two fingers, "That you will spend at least two more hours studying…"

"Ron!  That's obvious!  I've got tons of—"

"And!  Then you'll start to make your way up to bed—"

"Ronald!  Do you honestly—"

"—But," Ron's face grew dark, "You'll suddenly fall down, screaming…and…oh, no!   This doesn't look good Herm…."  He threw her a worried look, but she glared back, clearly not amused.  "Well," Ron continued, "Don't say you weren't forewarned!"  Hermione huffed, but nothing more was said as she returned to her work, though she did scowl dangerously at Ron as he made an exaggerated gesture to check his watch

Ron was, in fact, quite right.  The trio spent the next couple of hours deeply immersed in their work.  Harry found that he got much more done without the noise of his friends' constant bickering, and by the time Hermione began collecting her things, he had nearly finished his essay and the common room had emptied.  Ron too seemed to be finishing up, and with some difficulty, he managed to organize his piles of books and papers.  Then, with a casual glance at his watch, he gave a tired yawn and muttered thickly.  

"Yep.  I was right.  Just over two hours."  Hermione ignored him, slung her heavy bag over her shoulder, and started towards the girls' staircase.  As she turned her back, Ron gave Harry a mischievous look and silently got in step behind her.  She had just set her hand on the banister when, without warning, Ron reached towards her, giving her the shock of her life with an unexpected tickling.  Just as Ron had predicted, Hermione sunk onto the steps, trying to block the attack, and let out an involuntary screech and a peal of laughter, which was followed by several breathless cries for help, though her eyes were alight with merriment.  Harry watched for a moment as Hermione launched a counterattack and then returned to packing his bag.  However, a moment later, the laughter and sounds of the scuffle stopped abruptly.  Harry looked up and nearly choked with surprise.  

There in front of him were his two best friends, kissing like their lives depended on it.  As he watched, they broke apart and stared at each other.  Evidently, this was something that even Ron had not predicted.  Harry dropped his gaze before either of them remembered that he was there, and when he looked up again, both of them had regained control and were looking at him uncomfortably, obviously trying to figure out if he had noticed the accidental kiss.  He carefully kept his face blank and spoke innocently.

"So, I guess Ron was right then?  About the screaming?"  The other two looked at each other, and surprisingly, Hermione answered quietly.

"Yeah.  Ron was right."  Without another word, she grabbed the strap of her bag and rushed up to her dormitory.  Ron and Harry followed suit and trudged silently up to their own beds.  Neither talked as they struggled into pajamas, but as Ron threw himself into his four-poster, Harry caught the quick, giddy smile that lit his friend's face, and he smiled himself as he drifted off into a pleasant sleep. 

*****

Breakfast the next morning proved to be rather amusing.  Though Harry knew what was going on, the rest of the Gryffindors were clearly disturbed by the lack of bickering between Ron and Hermione.  The scene was made even more bizarre by the fact that Ron was once again lost in a book, and Hermione's oatmeal had her complete and undivided attention as her own books lay neglected on the bench beside her.  Ginny was staring openly at them both, and was so distracted that she managed to shove a spoonful of sugar into her unsuspecting mouth.  She wasn't the only one who seemed completely thrown off by the strange change, but fortunately, the awkwardness was interrupted by the reappearance of Tonya Turly.

"Tonya!"  Hermione cried happily.  "What happened to you?"

"What d'you mean?" the deceptively studious looking girl asked as she dug wholeheartedly into a plate full of eggs and sausage.  Hermione opened her mouth to continue, obviously referring to Tonks' absence the previous day, but she stopped short as Tonks shot her a warning look.  "I was in the library all evening after lessons."  The discussion was definitely over.  Silence reigned once again as everyone finished their meal.  Soon enough, the group set out for their classes, still keeping their silence, but as they reached the corridor where Ginny was to part with the rest, Tonks also turned to walk in a different direction, and Hermione couldn't contain her confusion.

"Aren't you coming to the grounds for the Creatures lesson?"   

Tonks answered bluntly.  "No.  I've got International."

"_What?_" Ron asked.

"Ooh!  International Studies and Languages?" Hermione, of course, was thrilled.  "I didn't realize you were taking that!"  

Tonks nodded.  "Yes.  So, I'd better dash!"  

Hermione and the others waved good-bye sadly, but Harry wasn't going to miss this chance to talk to Tonks.  "I'll walk you there, Tonya.  I'll see you two in a bit, and you at lunch, Ginny!"  He didn't wait for any arguments as he followed Tonks down a long, narrow passageway.  

As soon as he was sure they were alone, he stopped and turned to face her.

"Tonya," he started, "Can I talk to you?  It's important."  Her eyes widened curiously, but she grabbed his arm and silently led him to an empty classroom.

Without a word, she carefully closed and sealed the door.  Then, Harry watched as she strode around the perimeter of the room, trailing her wand and muttering quietly.  Finally, she cast a neat little concealment charm, enclosing the two of them in a translucent, undulating bubble.

"Wotcher, Harry!  What did you want to talk about?"

"Er..several things really…"  Harry wasn't sure what to ask first.

"Shoot, then."

"Well," Harry sighed, "First of all:  What's up with Hagrid?  Is he coming back?  Is he sick?"

Now it was Tonks' turn to sigh.  "This isn't public knowledge, but I suppose you're authorized to hear it…"  She paused, watching Harry carefully.  "Hagrid's been at St. Mungo's since June.  It's thanks to him that the Giants are finally with us, but unfortunately, on the trip back, he got ambushed."

"_Ambushed_?"  Tonks nodded gravely.  "Giants?"

"No.  Death Eaters."

"Well...well, when's he returning?"

"Soon, we hope.  He's been doing much better."  She spoke in a comforting tone, sensing Harry's panicky feeling.  He nodded quietly.

"Well, what about you?"  

Tonks looked alarmed.  "Me?"

"Yes.  Where've you been?  I haven't seen you since the feast!  Why haven't you been in classes with any of us?"  Tonks shifted uncomfortably and checked around her, though the concealment charm was obviously strong enough to guard against eavesdroppers.

"Well, I'm not in your form am I?"

"You aren't?"  Harry cocked his head, surprised.  Then again, why had he assumed that she was posing as a sixth year?

"Nope.  Seventh."  She seemed pleased with herself, but Harry was skeptical.

"Seventh….?  But…a class of seventh years walked out Charms yesterday and I didn't see you."  Her smile went limp.

"Right…"  Again, her discomfort was visible.  She leaned closer to him and whispered very softly, "I'm also a second year…Slytherin."  Harry jumped back in shock, but slowly, the pieces began to come together.  Tonk was working _in cognito_, trying to dig out Death Eater information.  What better place to look than Slytherin House?

"_Draco__?_" he asked breathlessly.  She shrugged, but her expression gave away her own suspicions.  "Is he involved in all this?"

"It's really too soon to know anything.  I haven't managed to get close to him yet, and who knows how close I will get, but he i_is/i_ one of my targets.  Then again, many of the likely sources have left Hogwarts altogether." 

Harry nodded in agreement, once again wondering about Draco's reasons for returning himself.  Finally, he realized that Tonks was watching him patiently and came back to his senses.  For a moment, he considered asking her if she'd heard anything about Nagini, since she was being so helpful and open, but he decided against it, guessing that if she'd learned anything about a large, evil snake roaming the school, she would have alerted him.  So, after thanking her, he helped her un-ward and de-charm the vacant room and then waved goodbye as they both hurried off to their respective classes.

When, at last, Harry reached the grounds near Hagrid's cabin, he was surprised to see that the usual class meeting place was rather deserted.  For a moment he wondered if he might have misread his schedule, but then he spotted Ron's lanky form leaning casually against Hargid's back fence, looking at what appeared to be some very sad Squelching Squash.  Harry made his way over to his friend, to find out where the rest of the class had gone, and wondering vaguely if perhaps, by some bizarre chance, they had been eaten by the squash.  The idea was ridiculous, of course (the Squelching Squash only ate meat during the autumn), but Harry's amusement faded as he was reminded of Hagrid, who frequently exposed the class to dangerous creatures.

Harry reached Ron, still frowning.  Ron, however, was grinning as he turned lazily to face him.

"Hey," he said happily, "They're all in the Owlery, Grubbly-Plank asked me to wait for you.  She wasn't too pleased."

Harry frowned more.  "The Owlery?  Are we learning owls now?"  Ron offered only a shrug and a weak nod as they set of back towards the castle.

"So…" he said quietly, "What did you find out about…"  He hesitated, obviously wary of being overheard.

"I'll tell you guys what I can later.  Not here."  Another nod.  The rest of their journey continued in silence.  Finally, they reached the tall tower that served as a home for the school's owls and those that students brought as pets.  Harry cracked the heavy door open slowly, gingerly peering in to see if he could somehow sneak in unnoticed.  For a split second he had a clear view of the class, standing around in pairs and trios, evidently getting to know some owls.  Then, as if on cue, nearly every owl in the tower turned to look at the door and then swooped as one towards Harry.  Like some great, feathery swarm of bees, they hovered around him, hooting and screeching softly.  Harry raised his arms to guard his face, but was surprised to find that not a single beak, talon, or feather harmed him as the creatures circled and fluttered wildly.

After a moment, the tumult died down and the owls returned to normal, some going back to the students, but most retiring to their perches.  Absolute silence reigned as the students and teacher gazed at Harry in shock.  He gazed right back at them, stalk still as he tried to understand what had just happened.  Thankfully, Professor Grubbly-Plank broke the awkwardness silence.

"As I was saying, Magical or 'Post' Owls are very social creatures, another distinction from their non-magic relatives.  What we have just observed with Mr. Potter was an excellent example; usually reserved for their own kind, mostly their young, that display was the owls' equivalent of a group hug."  She eyed Harry strangely and many of his classmates snickered.  

Harry saw that Hermione was among them, standing off to one side with Hedwig perched protectively on her shoulder and Pig diving recklessly around her head.  Ron stepped from behind Harry and dragged him over to stand beside her.  Hedwig hopped up immediately and glided over to Harry's shoulder to give him a gentle, comforting nip on the ear.

For what remained of the hour, Professor Grubbly-Plank continued her casual lecture and encouraged the students to quietly socialize with the owls.  She elaborated on the many characteristic traits of Magical Owls, which Harry found rather interesting.  Unfortunately, he was having a hard time paying attention.  Ron immediately started talking about the "owl hug".

"_What_ was _that_ all about?"

"Oh please, Ron!" Hermione muttered under her breath, "What an obvious question."  Evidently the brief period of peace between them was over.  Ron stared at her, but Hermione paid no attention.  "I want to know what Harry found ou—" 

Harry cut her off with a sharp look just in time as they were joined by Neville, Lavender, and Parvati's sister, Padma.  While Neville chatted with Hermione, The girls oohed and ahhed over Hedwig's pure, glossy feathers and Pigwidgeon's tiny cuteness (which made Ron grimace).  The time passed quickly, and soon enough they trotted back outside to the greenhouses, where Professor Sprout happily set them to planning and planting their own, personal "Potions Gardens".  The project turned out to be quite interesting, but Harry was eager to get out of class and find a private place to talk to his friends.  Ron and Hermione seemed no less eager, and as soon as the class was dismissed the three hurried, without a word, to the library. 

Luckily, the entire library was vacant except for Madam Pince, who smiled at Hermione, but glared severely at the boys.  Harry assumed that all students were either eating or in class, but he still insisted on finding a private carrel.  The three of them squeezed into the small chamber, which held a small but comfortable table and four chairs.  When Ron had shut the door behind him, Harry turned to Hermione.

"Can you cast a good concealment charm?"  

"Well, yes…but these study rooms are already soundproof."

"Fine," Harry said, "But I want an additional charm placed just around the three of us.  Can you do it?"  She nodded and immediately set to work.  It took her a moment longer than it had Tonks, but when she was done, Harry was impressed to see that the bubble looked exactly the same.  "Perfect!  So, I asked about Hagrid."

"And?"

"He'll be back.  Hopefully soon.  I guess he's been at St. Mungo's since the summer."  
  


"What happened?" both friends looked worried.

"Death Eaters."

"_Death Eaters_?  Here?"

Harry shook his head.  "No.  He was…traveling…"  He felt horrible keeping things from them, but wasn't sure if this was considered an "Important Order Secret".  Thankfully, Ron and Hermione seemed to understand and didn't demand more details.

"Alright, so…" Hermione said after a moment's silence, "What about Tonks?  Why isn't she going to lessons?"

"She is.  Only, she's not in our year, she's seventh form."  Harry hoped Hermione had been less perceptive than he had for once, but his hopes were immediately abandoned when Hermione said she had been looking out for Tonya Turly amongst all the students, including seventh years.  "Er…right….listen, I should probably warn both of you that you may have to take up occlumency, since…since you know the prophecy."  He spoke apologetically, but found that both friends actually looked happy.  Hermione, of course, loved to learn anything new, but Ron was a bit of a surprise.

"I've always wanted to read people's minds…"  
  


"But that's not occlumency, Ron!"  Ron shrugged.

"I have to start somewhere.  Imagine!  I could finally figure out what is going on in girls' heads…and—well, maybe not the twins, but…"  He trailed off and Harry grinned.

"Anyways," he sighed, "I can't say much more until you have some more defense, but I do want to tell you one thing: keep your wands handy around Malfoy…and any other Slytherins for that matter."  Ron laughed and pointed out that this was nothing new, but Hermione looked disturbed.

"Really, Harry!  Do you really believe that _all_ Slytherins are bad?  I doubt—"

"Hermione.  Just be prepared, okay?  Please?"  Harry gazed at her until she finally nodded.  "Thanks."

Just as they were preparing to leave, Ron spoke up again.  "Wait!  What about all that owl business in Creatures?"  Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Think, Ron!" she said, "Why would the owls respond to Harry as if he were a young owl?"  She waited patiently.  Ron stared for a moment and then comprehension dawned on his face.

"Ahhh!  You think they know he's an animagus, then?"  He seemed doubtful, but Harry had to agree with Hermione; it was the only reasonable explanation.

They left the library and started making their way silently to the Great Hall.  For a moment, Harry was struck with the thought that perhaps he could have taken the opportunity to tell them about his meeting with Dumbledore last night, specifically the puzzle with apparating, but he caught himself immediately.  Like everything else, the information was too important to share, and Harry felt a familiar sense of panic returning to him, which quickly turned into frustration.  He was sick of these secrets, and sick of tiptoeing around.  Something had to be done.

As they entered the Great Hall lunch was nearly halfway over, and Ron rushed to find a seat and a plate.  Hermione followed, but Harry had other plans.  He made his way to long staff table at the front of the hall, determined to get at least some of his problems sorted out.

"Professor Dumbledore?" he said quietly as he arrived in front of the headmaster, "I need to talk to you, sir."  To Harry's surprise, Dumbledore simply nodded wordlessly and rose from his seat.  Harry followed him out of the Great Hall and into the small antechamber which was nestled unnoticeably in a corner behind the staff table.  The old wizard settled himself into a large armchair and gestured for Harry to do the same.  For the third time that day, Harry watched the protective bubble form as Dumbledore flicked his wand effortlessly and then turned calmly to face Harry.

"What can I do for you, Harry?"  Harry got right to the point.

"I need you to arrange occlumency lessons for Ron and Hermione, please.  And Ginny too."  Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully.

"Have you talked to them about this?" he asked casually.

"Yes, sir.  I've mentioned it to Hermione and Ron, and they seemed fine with it.  I haven't had a chance to talk to Ginny.  It's too difficult to talk about these things, which brings up another problem…can you teach me how to make a privacy bubble like this one?"  Harry looked hopefully at Dumbledore, but the older man looked hesitant.

"I can certainly teach you," he offered, "But I'm afraid I must warn you that, even using this charm you must be very discrete.  It's a rather obvious spell, and your use of it would reveal certain things…"  Harry nodded, understanding.

"There must be some spell that can be used easily?  Some way to just…block everyone else from hearing a conversation?"

"Without them noticing that they can't hear it?  I'm afraid that there is no spell that does that.  It would have to be a very complicated bit of magic; a strong, complex spell or a combination of several simpler spells.  As it is, I believe this is the closest there is."  Harry frowned and Dumbledore continued.  "However, I do believe we can start occlumency lessons for your friends."

Harry brightened.  "Soon?" he asked.

"I don't see why we can't begin tonight if they are able.  I'll check with Professor McGonagall and ask her to pass along the message.  You're welcome to join us, if you'd like."  

Harry breathed a sigh of relief.  "Thank you, sir.  I think I will."  Dumbledore smiled and nodded and asked Harry if there was anything else he needed to discuss.  "No, sir," Harry replied.

"In that case," Dumbledore rose and began clearing away the charmed bubble, "I believe we both have lessons to attend."  Harry nodded and opened the door into the hall.  The din of dining students, which was overwhelming compared to the quiet of the small study, was somewhat comforting to Harry as he made his way back to the Gryffindor table.  Ron and Hermione had found seats next to Ginny, Colin, and a number of other fifth years.  Harry squeezed in between Ginny and Hermione.

"Hey, Harry!"

"Hullo, Colin, Ginny," Harry nodded to his friends.

"Where'd you go?" Hermione asked from behind her book.

"Just to talk to Dumbledore, I—"

"What about?  Faculty business?"  Harry looked up at the new voice and was no-so-pleasantly surprised to see Leah.  He blinked at her.

"Er…Hi, Leah.  Nothing important really…"

Leah seemed rather put-out, but didn't give up.  "So, how's it feel to be Hogwarts' youngest professor?  You must be very ambitious."

"I'm not a professor…"  Harry frowned.

"Oh, right.  How's it feel to be Hogwarts' youngest instructor?"

"I'm not an instructor…" Harry answered slowly, horrified to see that Leah was holding a fresh notebook and quill in front of her.

"But you are teaching, right?"

"Yes, but…"

"Well, then!  How does it feel to be Hogwarts' youngest teacher in history?"  Harry was unsure how to respond.  He stared at her blankly for a moment, until a sudden flash of brilliance came to him, and he speared a large chunk of potato and stuffed it into his mouth, rendering himself unable to reply.  Leah looked confused for a moment, but didn't give up.  "Could you tell me a little but about yourself?" she suggested next.  "You grew up with your relatives, right?  Where do they live?  Is your full name really Harry James Potter, or is it something like Harold or Harrison or—"  

"You know, he's just a normal kid, Leah."  Harry was shocked to see that these words came out of Colin's mouth, but very thankful as well.  Wasting no time, he grabbed a sandwich and an apple and swung himself up off of the bench.  He waved a quick goodbye to his friends and winked at Colin before striding quickly from the Great Hall.  He made his way to the Transfiguration classroom.

The door was open as he approached the large, tidy room, so he walked right in and found his usual seat at the back of the room.  Dropping his bag, he slid into his chair and began munching on the apple.  He looked lazily around the bright room, enjoying a few minutes of solitude, but as stopped chewing in between bites, he thought he heard something.  He swallowed and pricked his ears, listening carefully, and he heard it again.

A very quiet, sustained "Ahhhhh!" coming from somewhere behind him.  Harry's eyes widened and he waited for hear more, but nothing came.  He bit into the apple again, but didn't chew, and sure enough, he heard a muffled, whistling chuckle.  Slowly, he inched his hand towards his wand, but just as he closed his fingers around it, he was startled by a loud click-clacking sound.  He jumped as Professor McGonagall swept into the room.  She looked equally started to see him there.

"Mr. Potter!  You're early!  Are you feeling quite well?"  He managed a weak laugh and nodded.  There was no way he could tell her what he'd heard, for that would surely let any "spies" know that he was aware of them.  "Good," she said, "Actually, I'm glad you are early.  We must discuss this year's quidditch team."

At the mention of quidditch, Harry's perked up, but he only half listened as McGonagall went over this years' schedule.  The rest of his attention was focused on listening for more suspicious sounds.

"Potter? Are you paying attention?"

"Yes, Professor.  Practice before dinner Wednesdays and after on Fridays."

"Right.  And tryouts are next Friday."

"Right…" Harry thought he heard a faint hiss.

"And Potter, you'll be choosing five new team members.  I'm afraid we'll have a very inexperienced team this year…"  Her expression was grave.

"_Five_?"  Harry suddenly realized what she was saying.

"Yes.  We'll need two beaters and three chasers.  Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke have decided to resign."

Harry was shocked.  "But…what about Katie?"

"She's spending her final year studying in Bermuda."

"_Bermuda_?"  McGonagall nodded grimly.

"They have an excellent wizarding academy.  She was one of only three students accepted into their exchange program from all over the world."

Harry could do nothing more than nod distractedly as he tried to process this new misfortune.  Then, another dull sound caused him to whip his head back towards the back of the room.  McGonagall cleared her throat and he turned back to her to see a worried expression on her face.  

"Harry?  Are you—" She stopped herself as student began flooding into the room.  Harry made his way back to his seat in time to see Ron and Hermione walk in together.  He was pleased to see that McGonagall surreptitiously passed them each a small slip of parchment before they made their way towards Harry.  Both glanced with interest at their messages and he wasn't surprised when they both looked up at him curiously, but they kept their silence and carefully stowed the notes in their bags without a word.

Class began as McGonagall's lessons usually did: promptly and seriously.  Like their other N.E.W.T. classes, this one was composed of students from all four houses.  In fact, except for Parvati, who joined them at the back of the room, they were the only Gryffindors in the room.  Evidently, this was one of two sections, and Parvati gloomily explained that both Lavender and Padma were enrolled in the other section.  She perked up slightly, however, when McGonagall explained that this was the more advanced of the two sections.  Hermione, of course, took this news with a satisfied smile, but Ron and Harry couldn't hide their surprise.  Defense was one thing, but to be among the elite in Transfiguration was another story entirely.  There did seem to be quite a few Slytherins and Ravenclaws in the class, and it was rather surprising that Padma wasn't in this higher level.

Parvati shrugged at the idea.  "Well, she is rather useless at Transfiguration," she whispered, "Actually, that's about the only thing she doesn't excel at…but I never thought I was _good_ at it!" Harry nodded politely as he strained to listen for more hissing.  He was so caught up in this, that he barely noticed when the professor began explaining the day's lesson.

"Harry!" Hermione prodded him urgently.

"Hmm?" He turned to see her looking at the professor, but McGonagall didn't seem to have noticed.  Soon enough however, a rustling of paper and the scraping of chairs against the floor signified the start of the practical lesson, and Harry found himself staring blankly at a fist-sized stone which lay innocently on his desk.  "What's this?"

"It's your stone," Hermione offered peevishly.  Fortunately, Ron took pity on Harry and explained.

"We're supposed to be transfiguring it to an animal," he offered, looking doubtful.

"Any animal?"

"Right.  Though, I'm thinking a slug is my best bet."   

Harry snickered.  "Well, we all know how much you like slugs…" he muttered, earning himself a loud groan from Ron.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?"  Professor McGonagall joined them in a very Snape-like manner.  Both boys shook their heads.  "Good.  Let's see your transfigurations.  Mr. Weasley?"  Ron reddened, but raised his wand over his rock and attempted a jiggly, complicated motion.  Harry watched as the rock turned smooth and seemed to melt a bit, and too his surprise, McGonagall looked pleased.  "Alright.  You're on the right track.  How about you, Mr. Potter, since I'm sure you were paying close attention to the lecture?"

Harry avoided looking in Hermione's direction, and turned to his own stone.  He had a vague recollection of this sort of transfiguration; he remembered reading about it over the summer and thinking of Cedric's similar attempt at the Triwizard tournament.  So, with an uncertain confidence, he raised his wand and twitched it around in a detailed pattern.  Then, he watched with relief as his piece of granite slowly began to shudder and twist into a new shape.  The once-hard substance began to pulse and grow, and finally it took on a familiar, if unexpected, shape.  He heard the gasps of his nearby classmates as the stone became a sleek, silvery snake, which immediately wound into a tight coil on his desk.

Professor McGonagall stood behind him, her eyes wide in surprise.  "Most impressive, Mr. Potter.  Five points to Gryffindor.  However, I will also be taking five points.  Next time, pay attention to the material we are actually covering in this class."  She strode off to the next desk without another word, leaving Harry to wonder exactly what he'd done wrong.  He didn't have to wonder long, however.

"Crikey!" Ron whispered, "You weren't supposed to turn it into a _live_ animal!"

Harry's brows furrowed in confusion and he looked to Hermione for clarification.  "What other type of animal is th—"  The words caught in his throat as he saw Hermione holding a tiny, perfect figurine of her cat, Crookshanks, obviously formed out of rock.  He followed her stare back to his own creature, which was now stretching out in the small patch of sunlight that fell on his desk.

"But…we've been doing shape changes for years…" he sputtered.

"It's called 'review', Harry," Hermione grumbled, "Where did you learn to do _that_?"  She nodded at the snake suspiciously.  Harry shrugged.

"I read it somewhere."

"Read it somewhere?"  Both friends repeated.  Hermione sounded surprised, but Ron seemed utterly offended.

"But, Harry," Hermione argued, "This isn't in the book, is it?"

"Ah, don't worry, mate.  She's just annoyed 'cause she hasn't read the _entire bookyet_."  Hermione looked like she was about to correct him, but Harry spoke up instead.

"Look, I haven't even opened this book yet.  It must've been in another one.  But it doesn't matter, so let's just drop it!"   Hermione didn't seem satisfied, but the conversation stopped there and Ron and Harry spent the rest of the period doing combination transfigurations to Ron's rock, while Hermione busied herself with translating a huge list of Runes.  When the students at last began shuffling out of the room, Harry gently transferred his snake into the pocket of his robe.  Hermione shot him a disapproving glance, but he had grown rather attached to the little animal, and was reluctant to transfigure it back into a rock.

The three hurried away from the throng of hallway traffic, and Harry wasn't surprised when, as soon as they were alone, both his friends thrust identical notes towards him.  The notes, which were clearly in Dumbledore's script, instructed them to meet in his office after a very brief supper, and specifically asked them to bring Harry.  Harry nodded, but refused to discuss it in the open, saying simply that they would find out when they got there.  So, the two made their way to dinner to grab a quick bite, while Harry, who said he wasn't hungry, dashed up to the Gryffindor tower to drop of his books and find a warm place for his new pet.

_Please review if you have a minute!  To all of you who have reviewed:  Thank you so much!  I love to hear what you think!!  From now on, I'll try to remember to respond specifically to some of the more specific comments you have, but if I don't mention you specifically, don't think that means I didn't notice your review!!! Believe me—I notice each and every one!_

**_Response to Joe:_**_  I don't think an owl is a lame choice for an animagus animal.  I mean, Harry picked it for certain reasons, and yes, he could have perhaps picked an animal with a more…impressive reputation/symbolism, but I thought the owl was a good choice because 1) it's a nocturnal creature, which seemed fitting 2) owls play a prominent and important role in the magical world (sort of like Harry…) and 3) many stories (many good stories!) set Harry as having very powerful/threatening/magnificent animals, which certainly remind us of his own greatness, but I don't really plan on using his animagus form as a demonstration of his power and uniqueness—I think he does that well enough by just being himself!  Let me know what you think!  Thanks for reading! _


	16. An Eventful Evening

Chapter 16:  An Eventful Evening

"Hermione?"

"Mmm?"

"Walking is a lot easier if you haven't got a book covering your eyes."  Ron regretted offering the advice immediately as the book lowered, and he was faced with a pair of annoyed, dark brown eyes.

"I'm looking for that wand-work Harry said he read about, and I don't see it anywhere," she explained, sounding frustrated.  Ron sighed.

"He didn't even say it was in there.  That's the new book and he said it's somewhere else.  Why don't you just give it a break?"

"Ron!  I've read all the old books!  It's not there either!  Aren't you just the least bit worried that Harry suddenly knows some pretty advanced magic and can't explain where he learned it?"

Ron's eyebrows rose slightly.  "Aren't you more worried at the idea of Harry doing _any_ reading at _all_?  It's just not like him…."  Hermione snorted in agreement, and Ginny, who was trotting along beside them giggled appreciatively.  They were on their way to Dumbledore's office; all wondering what this sudden summoning was all about.  Ginny was still staring at her own slip of parchment thoughtfully.  Soon enough, however, they arrived in front of the familiar gargoyle where Harry was waiting for them, leaning against the wall looking impatient.  As he saw them, he straightened up immediately and murmured a few words to the gargoyle.  It sprang open at once and he began ushering them towards the twisting staircase.  Ginny stopped in front of Harry, opening her mouth to question him, but he shook his head and took her arm as he moved towards the stairs himself.

"You'll find out soon enough.  I'm glad you came.  I didn't get a chance to ask you about this earlier but...well, you'll see."  If anything, now she was more confused, but she followed without argument as he hurried up to the door of Dumbledore's office.  He knocked and was invited in without delay, and the four of them trailed into the room eagerly and found Dumbledore smiling gently at them from across the room.  He stood in front of his desk and was holding a large book, but as his students entered, he closed it and set it aside carefully. 

"Thank you for coming," he began pleasantly.  "Please take a seat."  As soon as they were comfortable, the headmaster explained the situation.  Ron and Hermione were not surprised by the news that they must practice occlumency, and Harry was glad to see that Ginny seemed pleased with idea.  When it was clear that they were all open to the idea, Dumbledore smiled again and looked at a small clock over the fireplace.

"Well, I do think it would be best if we started your lessons immediately, and since we have slightly over an hour before you all head towards your evening lesson, I see no reason why we shouldn't begin tonight.  We'll just wait one moment…ah!  Nevermind!"  Harry looked up sharply as the door swung open and in walked Snape.  "Professor Snape, thank you for agreeing to help."

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny looked back and forth between the headmaster and Snape, their expressions becoming more apprehensive with each passing second.  Harry stood up and faced the headmaster angrily.

"Professor, what—" he stopped as Dumbledore raised his hand to interrupt.  Snape was glaring at Harry, his eyes revealing his own surprise at the situation.

"Please listen," Dumbledore said.  "Since there are three students to teach, and limited time, I thought it best to acquire a second instructor."  Harry's jaw dropped.  Did Dumbledore forget what a horrible teacher Snape had been to him last year?  He couldn't be serious!  But as he continued, it became clear that he was serious.  "I'd like at least one of you to work with Professor Snape in my inner office.  If need be, we can take turns, but in the long run I think it will be most helpful to have two teachers.  Now, for starters Severus, why don't you take Miss Weasley and I'll work with Ron and Hermione."  Harry's shook his head vehemently, unable to speak.  What had he gotten Ginny into?

"And Mr. Potter?" Snape growled.

"Harry is here for his friends, but I'm sure he would benefit from watching us as well."  Snape nodded and walked towards the little door at one side of the room, motioning for Ginny to follow.  She stood uncertainly for a moment, but then started towards the professor.  Harry caught her hand as she passed.

"Look, Ginny…" he said, not caring if Snape heard, "You don't have to do it…maybe…"  Ginny forced a smile.

"It's fine, Harry."  She flashed the bright smile again, but he saw the tension in her face.  Snape tapped his wand impatiently against his palm.

"Fine," Harry blurted, "But I'm coming with you."  He avoided Snape's eye as he joined Ginny and headed towards the inner office.  He wasn't about to leave her to deal with the slimey git on her own, and he didn't see the tiny smile on Dumbledore's face as he left the main room.  As the door closed behind them, Snape turned to Ginny, completely ignoring Harry's presence.  Harry listened as the Potions professor started to explain the "obscure, but highly useful branch of magic known as occlumency" in a lecture that sounded surprisingly similar to the one he'd gotten last year.  However, as Snape spoke, he wasn't being specifically cruel or harsh in any way, and so Harry relaxed slightly, now feeling awkward about overreacting.

After several  minutes, Snape reminded Ginny to keep her mind cleared of all emotions as he prepared to perform legilimency on her.  Harry focused his attention on Ginny's face as her eyes closed lightly and she braced herself mentally.  Snape spoke the incantation quietly, and soon Harry could see Ginny's eyes dancing back and forth behind her eyelids.  For a moment he wondered if maybe Ginny was succeeding in blocking Snape out, but then she clenched her eyes shut more tightly and her mouth was drawn into a small frown.  Harry looked to Snape and saw to his horror that the professor had a small, triumphant smile playing across his lips.  There was no way of knowing which of Ginny's memories Snape was browsing through at the moment, but Harry felt a distinct urge to stop him.  For a moment he hesitated, but then he saw Snape's eyebrows raise with interest, perhaps even with surprise, while a quiet whimper escaped Ginny's mouth.  Within seconds, Harry was by Ginny's side, his arms wrapped around her as her trembling knees threatened to drop her to the floor.  

"Stop it!" he shouted, but Snape did not release the spell.  Harry felt his anger reach a breaking point as Ginny slumped slightly in his arms. "ENOUGH!" 

Suddenly, Snape gasped and then hissed in pain, his wand hanging loosely in a limp hand as he staggered backwards, the other hand pressed against his temple.  Ginny took a deep breath and then raised her own hands to her forehead.  Harry simply glared at Snape, feeling strangely breathless and somehow weary.  Soon enough, Snape straightened up, and lowered his hand slowly as he looked over at Harry and Ginny.  An angry sneer appeared on his face, but before he could speak a word, the door was flung open and Dumbledore swept in, worry etched on his face.

"Severus?"  His gaze moved over to the two students, and he immediately conjured a chair for Ginny.  Harry helped her into it at once, not sure how much longer he could support her himself.  Why was he so exhausted?  "What happened?" Dumbledore asked at last, as Snape looked at him with narrowed eyes.  

"What do you think?"  Harry was surprised at Snape's sarcastic tone.  Dumbledore made his way towards Ginny and Harry, just as Ron and Hermione peeked into the room.

"Miss Weasley?  Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm really fine.  I just need to catch my breath…"  She was looking much better, Harry noticed.  The color was beginning to return to her face and she no longer held her hands up to her head.  "What happened?"  

No one answered, so Harry finally spoke up.  "You were ready to collapse and _Professor_ Snape wouldn't lift the spell off of you!" 

"And what then?" Dumbledore inquired mildly.  Harry was astonished.   Wasn't that reason enough to chuck Snape out of here?

"What then?  Then I yelled at him to stop and tried to keep Ginny on her feet, that's what!"  Snape snorted, but said nothing as he gingerly rose his hand to his head again.

"Severus?"  Dumbledore pushed.  Snape shrugged.

"Her mind was blocked…suddenly."  Dumbledore nodded vigorously and Harry saw Hermione and Ron share a meaningful look.  Without another word, Dumbledore left the room, only to return a few seconds later.  

"Poppy is on her way up."  Severus nodded and took a seat himself, closing his eyes and supporting his head in his free hand.  Dumbledore took a moment to conjure four more chairs and then sat down, looking rather worn out himself.  Harry gratefully dropped into a large chair as Ron and Hermione settled themselves beside him, and soon the room was still and quiet except for the sound of heavy, labored breathing.  Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were all watching him closely, and he realized with a jolt that the jagged breaths were his own.  He looked up to find Dumbledore watching him as well, and began to feel very confused.

"Professor Dumbledore, what—"  The room grew darker, and finally, there was nothing but blackness.

Harry opened his eyes as he felt a slight, warm weight against his forehead.  His eyelids felt heavy enough to be made of lead, but he managed to look around himself briefly before giving up and letting them close again.  He couldn't determine much from the blurry glance, but as voices around him started to become more clear, his recognized that worried tones of Madam Pomfrey.

"Well, the Anti-fatigue Draught did _something_ at least…maybe he's just caught a bit of something or other…but he doesn't _feel_ feverish."  The weight was removed from his head as Madam Pomfrey reached for another vial.  "Maybe a Pepper-Up Potion?"

"Perhaps," Harry heard Dumbledore's voice say, "You could try a Replenishing Potion instead?"

"A Replenishing Potion?"  She sounded surprised.  "I don't know if I even have any in my case…ahh! Yes I do!  Drink this, dear…" A small vial was placed against his lips and he drank obediently.  "There we are…it doesn't have an immediate affect, so we'll just wait a minute or so."

 A cool, prickly feeling dripped down Harry's throat as the mediwitch continued talking.  She seemed to be trying to get an explanation out of Dumbledore, who vaguely mentioned occlumency.  Harry wasn't surprised to find out that occlumency was not on Madam Pomfrey's list of approved activities.

"The way this child attracts trouble, I would think you'd be more careful with him!  Don't think this doesn't count, Albus!  Whether he made it to the infirmary or not, I'm still marking it on his—ahhh!  There we are!"  She turned away from Dumbledore just as Harry was struggling to push himself up, blinking blearily.  "No you don't!  Don't even think about it!"

She pushed him down rather forcefully, and Harry was too weak to offer any argument.  He was a helpless observer as Madam Pomfrey hastily checked his vital signs, but he squirmed uneasily as he realized he had an audience.  Ron, Hermione, and Ginny hovered nearby looking worried and about as confused as Harry felt.  

"What…..why—"

"Lie _down_, Potter!"   Harry heard a quiet snicker as he was once again pushed down without much effort.  Turning his head, he saw a grim smile cross the face of his Potions professor.  Harry's eyes narrowed and he suddenly remembered what had been happening.  He pulled away from Madam Pomfrey, who was trying to get a good look at his eyes, and pushed himself off of the oversized chair.  Ignoring her protests, he got to his feet, his strength coming back to him bit by bit.  He faced Snape, incensed by the smug grin on the professor's face, but fighting to keep his temper.  

"_Harry_ Potter!  Sit down this instant…!"  She turned to Dumbledore for support. "Headmaster!  Please do something abou…_Why_ in Merlin's name are you smiling?"  When Harry looked, he saw that the headmaster was indeed smiling rather goofily.  Distracted, he forgot his anger for a moment, and realized at once how worn out he was.  What was _wrong_ with him?  Goose-bumps spread up his back and his face until he could feel his hair standing on end and he leaned against the chair to support himself as a feeling of nausea came upon him.  He looked to Dumbledore, wishing for answers, but only grew more confused as the old wizard continued to smile.

"Professor…?" he breathed.  The room was eerily silent for a moment, but then Dumbledore spoke calmly.

"Harry, do you have your wand?"  Harry tried to nod, but felt like he was about to be sick, so he reached for his wand with a shivering hand.  Ron stepped forward as if to help him, but Dumbledore gently held him back.  A half-second later, Harry's hand closed around the smooth, polished handle of his wand, and to his relief, he felt warmth flow through him once again and his vision cleared completely.  He shook his head, trying to dispel the prickling sensation once again, and soon felt as good as new.  He looked up at Dumbledore inquiringly, but the old man simply smiled.  "Feeling better?"

Harry nodded, baffled by the whole thing.  Madam Pomfrey, however, was not satisfied.  With a disparaging glance at Dumbledore, she resumed her check-up, and at last admitted that she could find nothing amiss.  

"Very good!" Dumbledore exclaimed, "And just in time, too!  You have about fifteen minutes to get to your classroom and begin tonight's Defense lesson."  He held a small pocket watch up to his face happily.  Harry's stomach dropped; he'd forgotten about the D.A.  Madam Pomfrey scowled.

"Albus!" she hissed, "He needs rest!"  The headmaster patted her harm comfortingly.

"No need to worry, Poppy.  I'm sure he'll be fine, and he needn't over-exert himself tonight.  It's only a theoretical lesson, after all."  She didn't look convinced, but Harry assured her that he was up to it.  He had no intention of missing his first lesson, thereby giving the school yet another source of gossip.  So, after the mediwitch left the office, muttering about reckless old wizards, Harry and his friends made their exit as well, while Snape lingered in the shadows of the office, sneering unpleasantly.  Harry made his way out of the room slowly, still trying to figure the whole thing out, but his thoughts were interrupted just as he reached the door.

"Harry?"  It was Dumbledore.  "I'd like to discuss this sometime soon.  If I'm not mistaken, you have no class after dinner Thursday."

Harry nodded.  "Yes, sir.  Sir…?"

"Yes?"

"What is this all about?"  Dumbledore surprised him with a wide grin.

"I have a good idea," Dumbledore assured him, sharing a meaningful look with Snape, "But we'll talk about it on Thursday.  In the mean time, here is your class roster.  And Harry, do get some rest."  Harry nodded, waved goodbye, and started off towards the Room of Requirement.

*****

Ten minutes before the lesson was expected to start, Harry was pacing restlessly back and forth in the Room of Requirement.  His friends watched wordlessly from a large couch, which had been provided with the room.  Actually, the room had supplied them with a large, comfortable arrangement of armchairs and sofa's, quite to Harry's surprise, but he was too distracted to think much of it, and none of his friends had brought it up either, though they looked about with curiosity.  

On the short walk from Dumbledore's office, the four had briefly discussed the events of the past hour, and Harry learned that Ginny had not been the only one to suddenly protect her mind.  Hermione explained how Dumbledore, who'd been in the middle of sifting through her own thoughts, had suddenly stepped back and reached for his head.

"Too bad, really," Ron grumbled, "He'd just finished telling me what a spectacular job I'd done, but after Hermione was blocked up, he tried me again and I was blocked too!  For once I was good at something and suddenly it doesn't matter!  What'd you _do_, Harry?"  Harry looked at him in surprise, but Hermione spoke before he could.

"Oh, Ron!  You're good at loads of things!  Look at quid—"  Harry interrupted her as he finally found his voice.

"What'd _I_ do?  What's that supposed to mean?"  Ron looked at him suspiciously.

"What do you mean 'What's that supposed to mean'?  One second we're all being brain-probed, and next thing you know, we're all shielded, the professors have headaches, and you collapse!"  Ron glanced nervously at Hermione, who spoke up quietly.

"You really looked awful, Harry!"  Harry narrowed his eyes dangerously at her, but she didn't seem to notice, and continued on, "I wonder what that Replenishing Potion was all about…?"  By the time they reached their destination, Harry was having trouble thinking straight at all with all of the strange things that had happened.  He paced dutifully past the doorway a few times, and then continued his pacing into the room itself, barely glancing at the contents of the large chamber.

Finally, Harry managed to focus his mind on two concrete, solid thoughts: the upcoming lesson, and Ginny, who had remained quiet the whole way to the room.  He stopped his pacing and turned to her.

"Ginny…"  She looked up, slightly alarmed.  "Ginny, I'm sorry about Snape.  You've shouldn't've had to work with him. I—"

"It's not your fault.  I said I'd do it.  I could've said no…"  He raised an eyebrow, making her grin.  "Well…I probably could've, but it doesn't matter now anyways!  None of us need to learn occlumency now, thanks to you."  Harry could think of no reply, but resumed his pacing as once again his brain was flooded with questions and confusion    

"Harry, you have a class due to arrive less than ten minutes," Hermione reminded him, "Maybe we should open the doors or something?"  Without waiting for an answer, she muttered a few words and the doors were propped open.  Harry turned his attention to the class roster and found a note at the top, written in Dumbledore's flowing script.

_Professor Potter,_

_Below you will find the list of your pupils. There should be at least four representatives from each house, however, I trust you won't mind that I've decided to include a few additional students who showed considerable promise.  Feel free to give and take points as appropriate.  If absolutely necessary, detentions can be arranged, but I trust that this won't be an issue with this group._

_Remember our discussion and good luck!_

_Albus___

Harry started scanning the list, not missing the fact that the headmaster had signed just his first name, not to mention referring to Harry as "Professor Potter".  The roster certainly looked official.  Printed on the Hogwarts stationary in the usual green ink, the names were listed alphabetically and separated by year, with small letters indicating the student's house to the side of each name.  He was surprised to find that the first name on the list was Ginny's.  He looked up at her thoughtfully.

"You must be the only fifth year in the class."  Ginny looked only moderately surprised.

"Really?" she asked casually, "I wondered why none of my classmates had this slot marked on their time-tables."  Hermione, on the other hand, was ecstatic.

"Oh, Ginny!  That's really good!  You must be the best in your year!  I mean, this is like, the elite!"  

Ron snorted and stifled a laugh.  "She's right, Gin.  We've got Famous Potter as a professor, after all."  He then turned to a not-so-amused Harry.  "So what's the lesson plan for tonight, Professor?"

Harry shrugged and dropped himself into a vacant chair.  "I don't know."  Hermione coughed.

"You don't even have a plan?"  She cried, clearly scandalized.

"Don't worry," he said uncertainly, "It's just a theory lesson…how hard can it be?"  

"Well, then!  So what's your theory on defense?"

"Erm…"  He saw her point, and wanted to smack himself in the face.  Why hadn't he thought about this?  He began wracking his brains at once, trying to come up with a decent lesson plan, but a moment later his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of excited chattering.  He gulped as he looked to the doorway, and faced what appeared to be the entire class.

**And now the (other) fun part: Replies!!!**

**OK, so…I have a lot of reviewers I want to reply to!  Here goes!**

**Ootp****-rules:  **Thanks SO much for your thoughtful review!  I'm glad you are enjoying the story!  Specifically, I wanted to address your mention of metamorphmagus-ness.  This had been mentioned to me before (I also post at harrypotterfanfiction.com) and I'll give a similar answer to you:  I (attempt) to plan ahead, and most if not all of the details in this story have a purpose.  You see a lot of reasons to assume that Harry will be revealed as a metamorphmagus.  I'm not going to give anything away (no matter how frustrating it may be!), but I will say that I have plans for these details and I hope you like what happens!  I really like getting reviews in which people tell me what they think will happen next, because it makes me realize how the story is coming across.  It's always interesting to see what impressions I am giving (correct or incorrect, accidental or purposeful)!  Thanks for the review!

**Kyntor**:  Harry's animagus form….what can I say?  I haven't read the interview you spoke of.  I've read a lot of stories where Harry and other characters go through different processes to have their animagus form revealed to them, sort of like Native American spirit animals or totems.  This is interesting, but not having read the interview, I decided against it.  I guess the idea is, the form of the animal comes from within the wizard, it's inherent in their personality so they have no control over what it is.  Well, this makes sense.  After all, the few animagus forms we know of seem to suit the characters.  (Although I would expect Rita Skeeter to be some sort of…I don't know, something sneakier than a beetle!)  However, perhaps if the animal form is inherent, then it is unavoidable that this is the animal they choose as their form.  Maybe James Potter was destined to be a stag, and when the time came to choose an animal, he suddenly felt an urge to be a stag!  Oh well!  Let me know what you think!  Don't mind my babbling.  The bottom line is, I'm not going to change that part of my story, I just like it like that.  Thanks for your comment and review!

**David305:  **Argh!  O.W.L.s!  Okay.  I've had this comment before also.  So, after reading your review, I went through the story and edited it a bit.  Basically, I caused confusion.  Here's how:  I understand the whole O.W.L. grade system.  I know O, E, and A are all counted as "O.W.L.s", but I made the mistake of writing O.W.L. instead of "O".  Sorry!  I changed it, and I changed one "six" to "eight", but basically, Harry will be taking only 6 N.E.W.T. level classes, because the only E's or A's he got were in classes that he won't be taking.  I also understand that Snape is the only teacher who is supposed to accept only O level pupils.  That's not to say that Sinistra or Trelawney takes A's.  Maybe they only take E's and up.  I believe McGonagall said she requires an E.  Who knows?  Anyways, thanks for the review, and check back in Chapters 8 and 10(if you want) to see that I did change those parts!  

**Stahchild**and **@--)--- :**  AHhhh…..Nagini.  Well I can answer one question.  The little rock-snake is NOT Nagini.  As for using the rock-snake to deal with Nagini, it is definitely a possibility.  I don't know whether Nagini would show up on the Marauders' Map, but my guess would be no.  After all, if every animal showed up on the map, there'd be a lot of clutter with owls and creatures around the castle….bugs!  But then again, does Mrs. Norris show up?  I don't know.  But if certain creatures do show up, then it seems like someone would've had the bright idea to look at the map during second year, doesn't it?  Oh well!  Thanks for reviewing!

**Kitty254781:  **Rrrrreally?  Too nagging?  Hmm.  I will look into this.  I am certainly not trying to make this the case!  Thanks very much for reviewing!


	17. Professor Potter

Chapter 17: Professor Potter

Harry's stomach flip-flopped as he stood in front of the noisy crowd of students. Those who were not D.A. members were taking it in turns to stare around the large, luxurious room and stare at Harry, but he hardly noticed. His head was spinning at the ridiculousness of the situation. After all the stupid things he had done, he was supposed to be responsible for teaching his peers? His _friends_? The very absurdity of it made him want to laugh.

What was Dumbledore thinking? As the class began to settle down, Harry felt his temper do the opposite. The confusion of the evening's events left him with a horrible feeling of helplessness, and even worse, suspicion. Something about the headmaster's quiet smile and calm manner left Harry feeling slightly ill and quite annoyed. He knew the old wizard cared about him, so after the disturbing experience with occlumency, Dumbledore's placid, unworried cheerfulness could mean only one thing: What ever happened in that office, he had been expecting. Perhaps he had even planned it?

I sudden elbow to the ribs from Ron pulled Harry out of his thoughts, reminding him of his surroundings. He looked up to find all twenty-one students staring directly at him. He felt a moment of panic, before a thought struck him; if Dumbledore wanted him to teach what he knew, he would do just that. A determined spark found its way into Harry's green eyes, as he had a sudden realization: for once, he didn't feel so powerless. Now was his chance to be something more than a hapless pawn, and he was going to make the best of it.

"Hi," he started, glancing over the group appraisingly, "I'm Harry, or just Potter if you prefer. Welcome to Defense Training. I know we're all at some different levels, but that shouldn't matter so much, as we're all going to be starting small and working up; it's important to have a strong grasp of the basics if you're going to be teaching them. You all will be completely responsible for teaching defensive spells to the third through seventh years, and you'll also need to help the younger students review their lessons from class. So, tomorrow night we'll probably start with some pretty old stuff." Harry stopped briefly to gauge the reaction, and for once he was pleased to find all eyes focused on him. He continued speaking.

"Tonight, however, will be a theory lesson." Groans seeped out of the mouths of some and Harry saw that Draco Malfoy was looking almost amused. Harry raised an eyebrow. "This is_ not_ going to be some Umbridge-like excuse for a lesson. Professor Dumbledore asked me to teach from my experience," Harry paused for a quick smirk, "And that is what I plan on doing…sort of. For now, however, I'd like to hear from you."

He scanned the group quickly and saw that only a few people had brought their backpacks. He asked the nearest girl (who turned out to be Tamara Moon, the dark-haired girl from his regular Defense class) if she had a spare bit of parchment and a quill. She did, and he quickly got to work multiplying the items until there were enough to give to each of the students. With Hermione's help, he passed them around and then explained what he had in mind.

"I'd like you," he announced to the group, "To think about your _own_ experiences and come up with at least one important thing you have learned about Defense. I'm guessing that once you get to thinking about it, you'll be able to think of more than one thing, so take a minute to write down the most important thing you've learned outside of regular lessons." He looked around, feeling rather professor-ish, as most of the students concentrated and some began to write.

"You don't need to sign your name," Harry added as an afterthought, "But you can include a bit about how you learned what you did, if you want." His gaze traveled over the group--over Hermione, who was scribbling feverishly, over Neville, who looked deadly serious, finally pausing at Malfoy. Draco's pale grey-blue eyes were looking directly at Harry's for a moment, but almost immediately they shifted away and Harry let his gaze move on as well.

Finally, it seemed everyone was done, and Hermione once again volunteered to help as Harry collected twenty-one folded bits of paper. The class watched as he spread the lot of them over a low table, privately congratulating himself on this stroke of brilliance. Then, he grabbed one at random, unfolded it, and read it.

The tidy scrawl was familiar but Harry was unable to place it in his mind at first.

_Know who you can trust and who you can't. Never trust anyone completely._

The words were brief and to the point, and Harry felt like the breath had been knocked out of him; at first he was struck with a feeling of pity that someone should have such a bleak outlook, but the pity grew into a dull, but horrified, sense of recognition, and he realized that this was the root of the very argument that seemed to be constantly taking place in the back of his own mind. His unease only grew worse as he finally recognized the handwriting; this snobby, neat script was one that he'd seen before when working side by side in Potions with one Draco Malfoy.

Harry cleared his throat, turned to the class, and read the words aloud. The response was mixed; many students frowned and sported disturbed looks, but others (mainly from the Slytherin House) nodded slowly with agreement.

"Though it looks like some of you disagree, this is a vital lesson. I'd risk a bet that everyone in here, at some point, has made the mistake of trusting the wrong person. An error as simple as this could cost you your life…" Before he could finish his thought, Harry was interrupted by a grinning Hufflepuff.

"You're starting to sound like Old Mad-Eye Moody, Harry!" Ernie Macmillan snorted. Harry grinned back at him.

"Ernie?" he asked innocently, "When, exactly, did you meet Mad-Eye?"

Ernie answered with a confused look. "He was only our teacher for an entire year!"

"You've just proved the point, Ernie. Though we knew him as Professor Alastor Moody, he was actually an active Death-Eater with some…alterior motives." Most everyone, save Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, looked utterly shocked. Even Draco couldn't hide his surprise.

"But…" Susan Bones started, shaking her head, "But Professor Dumbledore said…he told us…" Harry sighed.

"That brings us to the second part of the lesson: Be careful how much you trust someone. I wouldn't, personally, go so far as to tell you to never trust anyone completely. There may be times when you must trust another person with your life, but not everyone is that person, and trusting someone with your life is not the same thing as letting someone control your actions.

"Are you suggesting that we aren't to trust Dumbledore?" A seventh-year Gryffindor said quietly.

"Of course not," Harry said as all eyes fell on him, "He's saved my life, and he'd never intentionally put any of his students in harm's way." He fought to keep a grimace off his face. "I am just suggesting that you place your primary trust in yourself, and don't expose yourself just because you've trusted someone else more than you should. Do you understand what I mean?"

Now there were more nods, and a Hufflepuff seventh-year began to speak softly.

"It's true," the girl said thoughtfully. "I have an example too."

Harry gestured for her to share it and she gave a small smile as she explained. Soon enough, others were sharing their own experiences, and before long it was time to dismiss class and nearly everyone had been able to come up with an example from their own life. They left the room in groups, still telling their various stories as they headed off to their common rooms.

After gathering up the remaining slips of parchment and stuffing them into his pocket, Harry left too. He, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione strolled along with the other Gryffindors, chattering as they made their way towards the painting of the Fat Lady, more than one person congratulating Harry on a good lesson. After they had all clabbered through, Harry and his friends collapsed at near the fireplace, except for Hermione, who had nipped upstairs to grab a book.

Ron challenged Ginny to a quick game of chess, and she accepted without hesitation. Harry was quite happy to watch; he never won against Ron, but Ginny usually made a very interesting showing against her brother. (Though she was hardly likely to beat Ron, she always gave him a challenge, most likely due to her special skill at breaking his concentration.) Soon, however, Harry found his eye-lids were annoyingly heavy. He wondered vaguely why he felt so exhaustedas he changed positions and tried to keep his head up.

"Harry," Ginny said, looking away from the board for a moment, "Why don't you go up to bed? You look pretty beat."

"Yeah. Maybe I will…" He leaned his head back, gathering his strength for the trip upstairs.

"Harry! Hey, _Harry_! Wake up, mate!" Harry opened his eyes to see Ron's face in front of him. "Am I going to have to carry you up?"

Ginny snickered from behind Ron. "I told you you should have gone up an hour ago," She pointed out. She was packing away her chess pieces, and Harry rubbed his eyes and managed to stand.

"An hour?"

"At least! We played two games. Now come on! I want to get in bed, but I wanna make sure you get all the way there first." Ron looked concerned, clearly still worried from the happenings in Dumbledore's office.

Harry could only nod wearily and wave goodnight to Ginny as she turned to go to her own dormitories. A few minutes later, he dropped thankfully onto his pillows.

"'Night, Harry!" Ron yawned.

"'Night," Harry mumbled.

"Goodnight," called another voice.

Harry was too tired think who had spoken, but he replied just the same. As he drifted into a deep slumber, he didn't notice the strange look he received from Ron, the only other person in the room.

Harry woke early the next day, and felt surprisingly chipper as he tugged a bleary-eyed Ron down to breakfast. Upon reaching the Gryffindor table, they found Hermione deep in conversation with Tonya Turly. Ginny could be seen only slightly further down, suspiciously close to Leah, who once again held her notebook and quill at ready. Ron spotted this, and groaned loudly, but Hermione turned to give him a piercing glare.

Thankfully, Leah never made her way over to the group, and breakfast passed pleasantly. Ron was once more ranting about psychology and Muggle Studies in general, and Harry was having a good time answering a continuous barrage of muggle-related questions. Then Ron waved a cheery goodbye as they parted ways and Harry and Hermione dragged themselves down to another scintillating Potions lesson. However, that turned out to be all right too. True, Snape spent the entire double lesson watching Harry with a calculating expression, but Harry ignored him, and found it rather easy to complete his potion without error.

However, he and Hermione were not at all interested in staying longer than necessary, and so they hurried out as soon as both had turned in a vial of clear amber Chilling Solution. They were some of the first students to finish, and so they arrived in the Charms classroom several minutes ahead of anyone else, including Ron. Both took the opportunity to relax for a bit, as they slid into some empty seats.

Harry closed his eyes as he listened to the strangely comforting sound of Hermione turning the pages of a book. He relaxed, glad to be back to the soothing familiarity of Hogwarts life, and tried not to think about the countless worries that were plaguing him. He tried to think of other things. Maybe he'd find some time to get out on his broom before dinner? Just a zip around the pitch a few times might be nice. Practices wouldn't be starting up for another—

"_Let me out! Pleasssse_!"

Harry's eyes shot open as he heard a suspicious voice, but he didn't dare move. His heart seemed to be beating a mile a minute, but he ignored it and focused instead on listening. Nothing. Then he felt it: a gentle tug at his robes. Harry looked down, and was shocked to see a pair of shiny eyes (attached to a small, silvery head) staring out of the pocket of his robes. With a deep sigh of relief, he reached into the pocket and pulled out the little creature.

"How'd you get in here?" he asked quietly, stroking it slowly. He hadn't necessarily been expecting an answer, but the snake gave a faint hiss and was about to answer before Hermione spoke.

"What are you whispering about over—oh!" she had pulled her nose out of her book and noticed the reptile. "Harry, I don't know if you should bring the snake to classes. You'd better put it away before the professor gets here. I don't think they're allowed." Harry would have been a bit annoyed, but Hermione seemed genuinely concerned.

"I can't just keep him in my pocket all day! He wanted out."

"Well, why'd you bring it anyway?" She set her book down and moved to get a closer look at the shining creature.

"I didn't bring him. He was in my robes."

"_He?_" she looked back to Harry with eager curiosity. "Do snakes have male and female voices?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose so. I don't have all that much experience."

"Hmm," Hermione nodded thoughtfully. Harry eyed the snake while he waited for his friend to say something, but before that happened, Ron slid gracelessly into the seat next to him.

"Hey guys! Why the snake, Harry?" Harry groaned, but Hermione finally spoke up.

"_He_—the snake—wanted out of Harry's pocket, which he must've snuck into earlier," she supplied.

"Right," Ron said, as if this was quite obvious, "But I mean, why'd you decide to keep it in the first place?"

Harry shrugged again. "I don't know. It just seemed…right. Plus," he pointed out, with a slightly evil smirk, "He'll probably do us a favor and eat any unwanted spiders."

Ron shuddered ever-so-slightly, and Hermione looked at Harry with interest.

"Ooh! Did he tell you he eats spiders?"

"No."

"Well….does he?" Harry was just in the midst of another shrug, but Hermione elbowed him painfully. "Quit shrugging at us and _ask him_!"

He wanted to argue against bothering the snake, who was now curled into an unmoving coil, but a second later it seemed to look up, and Harry decided he might as well humor his friends. Both watched with partly eager, partly apprehensive looks, as Harry spoke.

"_Errr__…?"_

_"Yesssss?"___

_"How...how are you? Alright?"_

_"Yesss…thanks."_ To his surprise, the snake slithered across the desk and onto Harry's hand, which was palm-down in front of him.

_"Are you hungry? What do you eat?"_

_"Inssssectsss!__ But, I am not hungry." _The animal was certainly straightforward.

_"Right…well…let me know if you need anything."_

_"Cccccertainly."_It curled comfortably between his fingers. Harry raised his eyebrows and looked up from the creature.

"So? What'd it say?" Ron asked at once. Harry heard talking and loud walking near the doorway.

"He eats insects," he offered, distractedly wondering if he should try to hide the little animal during the lesson, but not wanting to disturb him. Students began filing in, and he surreptitiously covered the snake with his free hand.

"Harry?" Hermione asked. "Would you do me a favor?"

"Sure," he answered. He was watching Professor Flitwick, who had just arrived.

"Will you teach me to speak Parseltongue?"

"_What_?" Ron and Harry both spoke at once, but Hermione didn't get a chance to answer, for Flitwick, once again, chose an excellent moment to start class.

"You are seriously not kidding about this?"

"_No_, Ron." The reply was curt. Hermione was staring straight ahead, refusing to look at Ron as the trio hiked towards the quidditch pitch. The breeze was angrily tossing their robes about, and Hermione's hair flew violently out behind her. It seemed as if the wind could sense the brewing argument.

"You honestly think you're gonna learn Parseltongue? From Harry?"

"Yes."

"And here we all thought you were so bright…"

Ron's mumbling was just loud enough to be heard by a barely in-control Hermione. Harry kept his mouth shut. With any luck, this row would be over by the time they reached the pitch. He'd been overjoyed when Hermione had approved a quick fly, and didn't want to have the occasion ruined by another ridiculous argument. Any moment now, he'd be off of the ground. Already he could feel the wind tugging him forwards.

Unfortunately, the bickering did not seem to be reaching any sort of end. Evidently, Hermione had heard enough out of Ron and was ready to share some choice words of her own.

"You know what, Ron? Just because nobody ever managed to learn to speak with snakes before doesn't mean nobody can. We have a perfect opportunity here! When was the last time there was a Parselmouth worth learning from? Never. So, if you'd be so kind as to use your brain, you might realize what a _bright_ idea it really is! _And_—"

Harry had had enough, and from the looks of it, so had Ron. "You know," he said loudly, cutting off Hermione and holding a hand up to stop Ron's retort, "You can both stop discussing it, as I haven't even decided whether I'll do it or not."

Both friends paused at the edge of the pitch and looked at him as if only just noticing he was there. Even the wind calmed down to a gentle breeze. Hermione looked strange, almost upset.

"You won't even try?" Her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. Even Ron gave him a baffled look. Or was it disappointment? Harry couldn't quite decide.

"Look," he said with a sigh, "It's not that I won't it's just….I have to think about it a bit. I mean, for one thing, I don't even know how to speak it. It just comes out, you know? So it can't be too easy to teach someone else. But mainly, it just feels…I don't know….weird."

"Weird?"

"Yeah. Or…wrong. Something. I just don't know."

"You—the kid who gave a boa constrictor directions to Brazil, or some such nonsense—_you_ are trying to tell me you feel weird talking to snakes?" Ron raised an eyebrow. "Since when?"

Harry looked at them with narrowed eyes. "You two were the ones who said it was so dark and creepy. It's not my fault if I feel sort of…_awkward_ doing it!"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, "You've already proved several times that it isn't a Dark Art. It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I'm not embarrassed. I just don't often chat with snakes in front of an audience!" Ron snorted, but both continued to stare at him expectantly. Harry shook his head. "All right, I'll think about it, but no guarantees."

Hermione nodded happily and surprisingly, even Ron's worried frown disappeared. Harry smirked, wondering if Ron even remembered what side of the argument he'd been on.

"Oy! What are you laughing at?"

"You. You look so pleased," he explained as he mounted his broom. Ron stared at him for a moment and then turned to Hermione, who shrugged.

"Odd sense of humor, that one," Ron muttered under his breath. Harry grinned even wider before darting up into the air, leaving his two friends below.

Nearly two hours later, Harry and Ron decided to call it quits on flying for the evening and made their way in to dinner. Hermione had stayed for awhile, floating around cautiously on Ginny's broomstick, but soon enough she left, apparently eager to get to her Astronomy lesson early. As the boys made their way into the Great Hall, they weren't entirely surprised to find her hidden behind a large book.

They each took seats across from her and began filling their plates with baked potatoes, steak, and pudding. Harry squinted to read the title of Hermione's book, not paying attention as he piled butter and sour cream on his potatoe.

"I don't know how you eat so much, Harry, and never gain a pound!" Parvati exclaimed as she took a seat nearby. Lavender, who wasn't far behind, nodded vigorously. Harry looked up, disgruntled.

"What d'you mean? What about Ron?" He gestured to Ron, who was drowning his own plate in gravy.

"Well, with Ron, at least we can see where it all goes! I think he's grown since Charms."

"Wha'?" Ron finally looked up from his plate and joined the conversation. They all laughed, but a moment later, Harry stopped as Hermione poked her head out from behind the book and looked straight at him.

"She's right, you know?"

"Parvati?" Hermione nodded silently, looking at Harry thoughtfully.

"Here," she said, passing him the book, "Read this."

She pointed to a paragraph at the bottom of a page labeled "Energy and Restorative Draughts" and Harry began to read.

_Replenishing Potion _

_The Replenishing Potion is one of the most obscure potions used in Healing to date. Developed hundreds of years ago, its origins are vague, but its uses are clear. In its early days, the potion was a sort of "cure-all" for a variety of maladies, including everything from the common cold to irreversible spell damage. However, over the years, its true benefits have become more defined. The potion acts by accentuating the magical levels in a witch or wizard's body. Though this is still of some use in treating several common conditions, more recent and specific treatments have been developed, eliminating the need for Replenishing Potion in these cases. In some, very uncommon cases, the potion has actually been used to (seemingly) restore a patient's magic completely. Fortunately, cases of full magic-loss are quite rare, and only documented in a few ancient texts. More commonly, a patient will suffer from partial magic-loss, due to over-exertion of magical energy, or specific "magic-draining spells" (which are difficult to perform and never fully-effective). Finally, there are various records which indicate that Replenishing Potion was once thought to be a likely cure for Squibism, however, this proved to be false, and many Squibs suffered due to the misconception. In one case, a Squib attempted to fly off the top of a house on a broomstick, and learned the hard way that the Replenishing Potion did not, in fact, bestow any magical abilities upon him._

Harry read the passage twice, each time shuddering at the though of a full magic-draining spell. What would happen if Voldemort found a way to completely weaken Harry's magic? He decided he didn't want to think about it anymore. He looked up to find Hermione still watching him, and Ron still engrossed in his dinner.

"So," he began hesitantly, "What does this have to do with me eating a lot?"

"I don't know yet," she answered simply. She seemed deep in thought as she continued to study him, but offered no more information. So, sighing, Harry gave up and decided to cut the meal short and prepare for tonight's practical defense lesson. He waved a quick goodbye to his friends, grabbed his broom, and hurried toward the Room of Requirement, wondering what the evening might have in store for him.

**I'd just like to apologize for taking over a month to update! I really have no new excuses! I must thank all you reviewers for your input—it's really a great motivation for me. I hope you liked this chapter and I'll try to have another ready soon! Thanks for reading and please, please review!**

**--Sarah**


	18. Revelations

Chapter 18: Revelation

It was very late by the time Harry finally collapsed into his four-poster. He was worn out mentally and his limbs seemed to wilt from a sort of vague exhaustion which Harry didn't quite understand. He wondered, perhaps, if it had something to do with flying today after so long, but that had never happened to him before. Whatever the reason, his soft, warm bed felt wonderful and a slow grin of comfort spread across his face.

As he waited for sleep to come, Harry listened to the contented snoring of his roommates and the gentle pulsing beat that seemed to emanate from the castle itself. He tried to empty his mind, but unexpectedly, peculiar memories from the last few days kept interrupting: a glimpse of Draco Malfoy, leaning wearily onto the arm of a small couch, then again, Draco's grey eyes—sharp but tired—meeting briefly with his own, Draco prowling the hallways alone, his head down and manner dejected. It had seemed, for a while, that the normally proud, confident young Slytherin had lost his spirit, had fallen into a vague sort of depression. Then, at the meeting this evening, Draco snapped back to his old ways with a vengeance. He strutted into the Room of Requirement with a nasty smirk and pushed himself to the front of the group, where he spent the next two hours sending menacing glares Harry's way, along with the occasional scowl. While the rest of the students worked in pairs, practicing basic spell-work, Draco performed each spell once, almost lazily flicking his wand at whichever fellow Slytherin was closest, and then returned to his glaring.

Harry was glad when the lesson reached its end, and Draco swept away without a word, but he felt a tingle of unease as he watched Draco's robes whip around the corner. Something about the other boy's behavior seemed out-of-place, but Harry couldn't quite put his finger on it. Draco was, apparently, back to his arrogant self.

'So, why,' Harry asked himself, "Does that seem so wrong? And _why_ am I suddenly so concerned for the git who's been making my life miserable for the past five years?" But before Harry could come up with any answers to his own questions, he fell fast asleep.

Harry found himself back in his small room at Privet Drive. Once again, he was perched in his window, gazing down into the glowing streetlamps, and a breeze that was unnaturally cool for a summer evening was ruffling his messy hair.

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned to face his Aunt Petunia.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, and Harry shook his head in confusion.

"Sorry about what?" he asked, almost pleading for an answer.

"I'm sorry for all of it. All of these years. Can you forgive me? Can you forgive us?" Suddenly, the boney woman was flanked by her fat son and husband. Harry squinted up at her, somehow not comprehending her words.

"Aunt Petunia? What—"

Harry's words were cut short by a loud pop. His aunt, uncle, and cousin were suddenly gone, replaced by three hooded figures. He drew his wand, but just as he prepared to disarm the three, they pulled down their hoods, revealing the faces of three Order members. Tonks, Kingsley Shaklebolt, and Mundungus Fletcher all ushered him out of the room, muttering about Death Eaters.

"Harry!" Tonks said as she pulled him down the stairs, "You have to do something quick! We'll take care of the Death Eaters, but you have to get to school. We need that snake of yours. Hermione and Ron are being held hostage by Nagini, and your snake's the only one who can talk any sense into that evil creature!"

Harry's head reeled. "_What_? But Tonks….why…what…?"

"Just go! Go get him."

"Okay! I will! I must've forgotten him in the Transfiguration room."

"Fine," Tonks said, "Just hurry!"

Without a moment's hesitation, Harry concentrated with all his might on apparating to Hogwarts, hoping he wouldn't be too late for his friends. He just had to get to Hogwarts. Just make it to McGonagall's room and it would all be okay…

Smack.

Harry was awakened by a sharp pain in the side of his head, followed by a high pitched shriek.

"Harry Potter!"

Harry's eyes flew open and he snapped his head up, causing it to throb even more painfully. His vision was blurry without his glasses, but the voice he had heard was unmistakably Professor McGonagall's. What was she doing in his dormitory?

"Pr-Pr'fessor?" he slurred, squinting towards the figure in front of him and wondering why so many candles were lit.

"_Harry Potter!_" she repeated in a frantic whisper, "What is going on? What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"

He rubbed his eyes, and squinted towards her again. Suddenly, he awoke completely as he realized where he was. He jumped up and shook his head roughly. The painful throbbing seemed to travel along the side of his skull, but he ignored it and concentrated instead on the fact that he was currently standing in the middle of McGonagall's classroom in his pajamas.

"What am I doing here?" he echoed, placing a hand gingerly against his head and feeling a hard lump forming. McGonagall sighed and stood up. She made her way towards him.

"Have a seat, Mr. Potter," she advised. He moved back towards the desk he had woken up in and dropped into it at once. "Where are your glasses?"

"They're…on the night table…" he answered, stifling a yawn and wishing he could just return to his bed. "I can walk back without them though…" he said hopefully.

"I think not." The professor waved her wand in front of her face, spoke a few unintelligible words, and Harry watched as his glasses appeared in midair. She handed them over, and by the time he had them on she was back at her desk, hastily putting away her papers and books. "I think you'd better let Madam Pomfrey take a look at you head first."

Too tired and confused to complain, Harry just nodded and followed her from the room. Unfortunately, the castle corridors were quite chilly, and by the time they were halfway to the hospital wing, Harry was wide awake and shivering slightly, his bare feet numbed by the icy-cold stone floors. He glanced at his head of house as they rounded a corner, and found her looking at him strangely.

"I…don't usually sleepwalk," he offered lamely. "At least…I never have before…" She lifted an eyebrow.

"You weren't sleepwalking, Mr. Potter," she said shortly, and the rest of the walk passed in silence.

Madam Pomfrey was not overly pleased to see Harry either. Just out of earshot, the two women had a very animated discussion. Madam Pomfrey seemed shocked at whatever McGonagall was saying, but nodded quickly and returned to her patient. She huffed and scowled, but was unusually gentle and soft-spoken with Harry, which only added to his feeling that the world was turning upside down. It didn't take her long to take care of the large lump on his head, and then McGonagall escorted him back to Gryffindor Tower. With a strange 'Good night, Mr. Potter,' she slipped away down the corridor, leaving Harry wondering if it had all been one long, very confusing dream.

By nightfall of the next day, Harry found himself making his way towards the headmaster's office. His stomach turned uneasily and Harry couldn't decide if it was due to his growing anxiety about meeting with Dumbledore, or if he was simply hungry.

He had missed dinner, nicely topping off a completely nightmarish day. Since waking, Harry had had a splitting headache and a sour mood. Hermione and Ron were clearly concerned, but soon gave up asking for an explanation after Harry had reminded them (quite peevishly) that he wasn't at liberty to discuss himself or his life. He silently cursed Nagini, for the inconvenience she caused him, but somewhere deep in his mind, he was also relieved that he would not have to explain last night to his friends. In particular, he was not prepared to explain his dream, for he was still trying to figure it out himself.

So it was the dream he was thinking of now as he stopped in front of the familiar gargoyles that perched in front of Dumbledore's office. Questions swirled about in his brain, and foremost was the mystery of his Aunt Petunia. He remembered her part in his dream with uncanny clarity, and it sparked in his mind a memory of his last night at Privet Drive. Just like in the dream, her words that night had surprised him. An apology from his aunt was unheard of; though he thought she certainly had much to apologize for, he could not imagine what had possessed her to actually utter the words. 'I'm sorry.'

All in all, Harry thought his life was shaping up to be impossibly confusing, and he knew that his Aunt's uncharacteristic behavior was the least of his worries.

"Sugar Quill!" he said quietly, "Pepper Imp!" But the door did not open, and he wondered if maybe Dumbledore should just start giving him the password on a regular basis. "Pumpkin Pasty, Blood Lolly, Canary Cream! Skivving Snackbox!" The door opened without a sound, and he made his way once again onto the spiral staircase. He knocked on the door to the headmaster's office, but received no answer. So, hesitantly, he pushed the door gently open and found Dumbledore sitting at his desk, engrossed in a large book.

Harry cleared his throat. "Sir?" Dumbledore looked up, smiling gently.

"Ah! Mr. Potter!" His smile grew slightly. "Come in, come in! Please have a seat."

Harry took his usual fluffy armchair and watched as Dumbledore gently shut the book and pushed it to the center of his large desk.

"We have much to discuss and I believe it could take quite some time. Can I interest you in tea?" Harry was about to shake his head 'No', wishing to get to the point, but before he could, a tray of tea and sandwiches appeared on a small end table, and he realized that he was quite hungry.

"Yes, thank you," he said. To his surprise, Dumbledore slid into the seat on the opposite side of the table and began pouring tea with a flick of his wand.

"Very good!" the old man said as he handed Harry a cup. "Now, as you are aware, I've asked to meet with you tonight in an attempt to explain some conundrums we have recently run across, up to and including your experience last night." Harry nodded and chewed absently on a sandwich, waiting for Dumbledore to continue.

"The conclusion that I've come to, you will be pleased to know, in an encouraging one," he paused, looking at Harry with a smile, "But I must ask you to endure a brief lecture on Magical Theory in order for any of it to make sense."

Harry agreed, and the headmaster broke into an explanation of the basic nature of human magic. Harry took it all in, wondering what it was leading to, but also finding himself rather interested in the information. Dumbledore explained the idea of a wizard's magic "source"—the intangible substance at the core of a magical person's being, which generated the actual magical energy a wizard used to perform a spell.

"This energy, or "ether" as some call it, is present in every part of your body, as it is in any magical being. Of course, in some creatures, the ether is much more concentrated, which is why we use things like unicorn tales or phoenix feathers in our wands." Harry suddenly recalled the times he had been healed by phoenix tears, and realized that this "ether" must be present even in a person's tears.

"But if that energy is present in all magical beings, then why do wizards even need to use a wand? Why not just…use their own magic?" Dumbledore nodded seriously.

"That," he said sagely, "Is the question, isn't it? For years, wizards have used wands without really knowing how or why they worked as they do. Like so many things, the true history behind it was long forgotten, suggested only in folktales and whatnot, but in recent years, a more substantial explanation came to light, and that theory has since become the foundation of contemporary Magical Theory. I don't wish to bore you with all of the details, though if you desire, I would be delighted to discuss it some more. However, the basic idea is this: a witch or wizard, though he or she does indeed possess a magic source which generates magical energy, generally produces a rather small amount of this energy on a daily basis. A creature like a unicorn or a dragon, however, produces much more, and so each tail-hair or feather or scale contains a much purer form of ether. A wand, then, works as a sort of filter. Any ether that goes into the core of the wand comes out in a much purer form. So, a wizard like myself needs only to expend a small amount of my energy to create a great effect with my wand."

He demonstrated, sending his wand flying through the air and magically refilling the plate of sandwiches, which Harry had been emptying as he listened to the headmaster's explanation. He swallowed a bite quickly, not wanted to speak with his mouth full.

"But we can perform magic without wands."

"Yes! Exactly. You see, I am no expert on the subject, but the interaction of a wizard and his wand is complicated. To put it simply, the ether I exert enters the core of my wand and as a result, a bit of the wand's ether is pushed out, though in a much stronger form. However, it is possible for me to use my own ether for a simple spell. It requires some concentration, but one can be taught to release ether in the form of a spell. The trouble is, the amount of ether a person can produce is soon exhausted, since so much must be released for any given spell.

"So, of course, it is possible and even common for a witch or wizard to perform small bits of wandless magic, most often when they are young and untrained. Accidental magic, some call it. Since children seldom get the opportunity to use their magical energies, a few spells here and there have no effect on their magical stores. But, as a person is trained, and he or she begins using their magic daily, their stores are less full. Any large exertion could be completely draining. A single spell could almost consume their store of ether, and it can take quite some time for their magic source to regenerate the ether."

Harry was beginning to get an idea of where this was going. Had he been accidentally performing wandless magic? Certainly he hadn't used a wand to regrow all of his hair, he reasoned, but that didn't explain whatever had happened last night, or the mysterious blocking of his and his friends' minds. Dumbledore seemed to sense his confusion.

"Harry," he said, looking very serious, "You have not only been performing wandless feats, but very large wandless feats. Professor McGonagall told me last night that you had suddenly apparated into her classroom."

"I _what_?" Harry shook his head slowly, "I…you can't apparate in Hogwarts…Hermione's always saying—"

"Indeed. So you can see, it must have taken some great effort to make it all the way to Minerva's room without even a wand." He watched Harry carefully, almost as if he expected some sort of explanation. Harry wasn't sure what to say.

"I was dreaming," he admitted finally, not sure what sort of reaction he would get.

"Do you remember what you were dreaming?" Harry nodded and went through the dream quickly.

"It was so rushed, and all I could think of was how I needed to apparate to the Transfiguration room…and then I woke up." He sighed and looked up, hoping for an explanation.

"Interesting. Very interesting," Dumbledore said, nodding knowingly. "No matter what the explanation is, though, you see that it is very peculiar for you to be exerting so much of your energy without being affected?" Harry nodded in agreement. Dumbledore gave him a contemplative look.

"Do you remember," he asked, "How you felt the other night in my office?"

"Yes, sir." Harry hadn't forgotten the strange sense of weakness, how breathless he had been.

"I do believe that you nearly used up your magical energies with whatever spell it was that you used to block off your friends' minds. It was a bit of a sign to me, of what might be going on, and when the Replenishing Potion helped, I grew even more convinced of my theory. Harry? Have you ever heard of a Confictiomagus?"

"No."

"Very few people have, even among old witches and wizards like myself. It is not a topic that is often brought up, but an important one, nonetheless. Throughout history, there have always been witches and wizards with rare abilities…abilities that can be used to benefit the entire wizarding world. The ability, Harry, to create new spells! The Confictiomagi! The Inventors…"

Dumbledore gazed silently at Harry, who looked back warily. The old man seemed lost in thought, but his eyes shone with something Harry had not seen in them for far too long: hope.

"Harry, my boy," he said, finally, smiling lightly, "I believe that _you_ are a Confictiomagus."


	19. Confictiomagus

Chapter 19: Confictiomagus

"'The Confictiomagi are a little-known but amazing variety of wizards. Also known as Inventors, they are best known for their ability to create new spells. Though these mysterious wizards certainly have played a vital role in magical history, we still know very little about their abilities and how they work. This is mainly due to their singular scarcity. Over the last 3,000 years, there is historical mention of less than ten actual Confictiomagi, and none living within 400 years of each other. Historians speculate that, over our entire history, there have been no more than twenty Confictiomagi—"

"Hermione? What does this have to do with—"

"Just wait, Ron! There's more here…. 'The most recent Inventor, a wizard named Felix Summerbee, died in the early 1500's, leaving behind a plethora of new spells, specifically charms and jinxes. Unfortunately, historians and magical theorists must rely on many ancient sources for their study of Confictiomagi, which makes it very difficult to acquire much knowledge of these wizards.

'However, recent advancements in Magical Theory have opened doors for new understanding of the Confictiomagi that have been documented. It is thought that the secret to the Confictiomagus' ability to create novel spells can be attributed to an excess of magical source, the diffuse substance responsible for generating a wizard's magic or magical "ether." Sources describe past Inventors as wizards with very high overall magic levels and surprising wandless magic capabilities…' Oh here we are – 'Compared to average wizards, the Confictiomagi can perform far more extensive wandless magic before they become drained of the essential ether. It is suspected that they actually begin utilizing small amounts of magic source before finally becoming exhausted. One account describes an Inventor casting a barrage of wandless hexes upon his next-door neighbor, and then immediately collapsing into a magic-drain coma. The wizard was revived moments later, however, by falling onto his forgotten wand, and he stood up to finish the duel. Experts hypothesize that the wand of a Confictiomagus can store the magic source that they release and restore it to them as needed.' See, Ron! It fits perfectly!"

"You're trying to tell me that Harry is some sort of….spell-maker…?"

"Spell-_creator_."

"…Just because he felt a bit faint the other night?"

"Ron! This describes it almost exactly! You were there. He was about to black out until Professor Dumbledore told him to hold is wa —" Hermione stopped suddenly and looked thoughtful for a moment.

"What?" Ron asked warily. He was quite familiar with Hermione's sudden, often unpleasant, epiphanies.

"Dumbledore knows."

Ron was not surprised. "Of course. He's _Dumbledore_." Hermione looked confused.

"But…why didn't he just tell Harry?" Ron just shrugged.

"I suppose he will…_if_ that's actually what's going on…"

Hermione groaned. "Why are you so difficult?"

Ron turned slightly red, but kept his voice calm. "I just think that if Harry _were_ this great, spell-inventing, powerful wizard, he would have noticed it sometime before now."

"Ron. We're talking about Harry, here. This is the boy who thought talking to snakes was just a normal, everyday thing." Ron had to admit, she had a point, but still….

"Hermione….wandless magic is the kind of thing anyone would notice." He sounded rather unconvinced. "Not to mention spell-writing…"

"Spell-creating. And who says he hasn't noticed." She had a funny look in her eye as she spoke, and Ron could help but feel curious as she went on. "He could have done loads without even thinking. I still haven't figured out how he transfigured that little snake of his…it's not in any of our books since first year."

"I can't believe you're still on about that," Ron grumbled.

"_And_ that whole hair-growing business."

For several minutes, the two friends sat silently in the otherwise vacant common room, each pondering their own thoughts, until suddenly the silence was interrupted by the opening of the common room door.

Harry entered and headed uncertainly towards the boys dormitories, too distracted by his own thoughts to notice that he was not alone. His friends, too startled by his sudden appearance to speak, could not help but notice the lost look on his face as he clumsily mounted the stairs and finally disappeared into the darkness above.

Upstairs, Harry barely registered the noise of Neville's quiet snores has he methodically went about getting into bed. He was torn between wanting to fall into a deep, forgetful sleep and wanting to scream at the top of his lungs. His first instinct had been the latter, and he was relieved to have made it out of Dumbledore's office before doing just that. The look on the old headmaster's face as he spoke made Harry want to lash out and perhaps break something, but he'd had enough of that at the end of last term. He could not stay in that office a moment longer, watching those twinkling eyes as the older wizard calmly shared his mind-numbing revelation.

Harry had rushed away from those eyes, that gentle smile, and those worn, delicate old hands which seemed to hold his life so dangerously in their grasp. He felt empty. This new information rolled about in his head, crushing all other thoughts which dared to emerge. With just a few words, Dumbledore had finally severed the last shred of familiarity that Harry had clung to. He was no longer Harry. He felt like a stranger in his own skin, except it wasn't _his_ skin. It was _Harry Potter's_ skin. Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry Potter, famous son of the brilliant James and Lily Potter, destined for greatness. With a sort of frantic energy, Harry searched everything about himself for some sign of the person he used to be. He looked the same, but even his appearance had taken on new meaning. He wasn't the skinny, messy-headed boy from down the street; he was Young Potter, who bore a striking resemblance to his father. Oh, except for the eyes, he thought, but the eyes were not his own either. No, _Harry Potter_ had inherited his mother's eyes. And his scar, the only thing that he had ever liked about himself, the only part of him that was truly his and his alone, had gradually become nothing more than a painful reminder of the person everyone expected him to be. It was just another ridiculous trademark of the stupid, fairytale celebrity of the entire wizarding world.

To his surprise, he found himself wishing for the days before Hogwarts, before he knew anything about magic or wizards. If only he had never known! Certainly, his years with the Dursleys had been anything but happy, but at least he knew who he was then. That was something. Even in the worst of times, he could count on himself. But here he was, thrust into a life he had never imagined with a past he had no memory of and a future he didn't want. How could Dumbledore be so calm about this? It was one thing to find out he was wizard. That had been easy to accept, since it meant a chance at a happier life away from his relatives, but as each additional truth was revealed Harry felt his former reality slipping away as he gradually learned what it was to be the famous Harry Potter. And now this. Everything he'd learned about his past, everything he'd worked so hard to be had been dashed aside with the knowledge that he, Harry Potter wasn't an ordinary wizard at all.

Harry gave up on his mental search. Nothing remained of the little boy who lived in a cupboard and used to be chased up trees by his cousin, and it seemed that everything he had learned since that time had suddenly been up-ended, totally scattered and confused with only a few words. He pulled off his socks mechanically, tossed them aside, and wearily unfolded himself on the comfortable bed. He felt like an empty shell of a human being – a robot whose programming could be installed or destroyed on a whim, and he wondered tiredly, as he drifted into an uneasy sleep, if Voldemort would somehow manage to locate an on/off button.

As the sun rose the next morning, a heavy, cheerless drizzle feel from the same sky. The birds were making feeble attempts at their daily business while soggy-looking clouds collected overhead. The general mood about the castle was one of mild excitement mixed with a bit of frustration over the hindering weather. Many students, it seemed, were inspired by last night's All-House Defense lessons and were quite eager to practice some of what they had learned. But since there was hardly room in the crowded hallways and the downpour discouraged spending time outside, most settled for quick discussions between lessons and longing glances through rain-splattered windows.

Harry, wandering distractedly from one lesson to the next, was mad. He had woken late, and growled as he realized that even an early morning sprint to Transifguration couldn't take his mind off of last night's disturbing news. To his disgust, his head was filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that he found quite distracting. Between bouts of annoyance and spells of confused nostalgia, he was having a very hard time listening to Professor McGonagall. So, about halfway through the lesson he gave up and settled on being just plain mad. Anger was familiar. Anger was something he could recognize. Anger was so much easier to take than some of those other pesky emotions, like that nagging, jittery, panicked feeling that was lurking in the back of his head. So, ignoring the worried glances from his friends, he settled into his anger and allowed it to stew for a bit.

After all, it made perfect sense to be mad. Once again, Dumbledore, who he had trusted so freely, had let him down. Or so it seemed. He had finally reached the last straw and effectively stolen Harry's last speck of identity. In return, Dumbledore had happily heaped a fresh load of responsibility on his student's lap, with a side of doubt and loneliness.

"Just what I needed!" Harry thought bitterly. "More to worry about. More ways to let people down."

He was being overly dramatic and he knew it, but deep down he knew there was truth to his complaints. The old headmaster had made it quite clear that this Conficitomagus business was quite extraordinary, not to mention important. With a massive effort, Harry had willingly taken on the weight of responsibility that accompanied that wretched prophecy, but that had been a simple choice when considering the future of his friends and family. Now, this new information left him questioning the relationships he'd cherished for so long.

Were Ron and Hermione really friends with him? How could they be if they didn't even know who he was? _What_ he was? Harry swiped the thoughts from his mind. Of course they were his friends. They'd been through everything together and he'd do anything for them, just as he knew they'd do the same for him. And yet….

"Harry!"

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin as Ron bellowed loudly in his ear. As it was, the hand that had been supporting his head slipped jerkily away from him, allowing him to fall rather loudly against the hard wood desktop. He looked up in confusion to see Ron smirking happily, while Hermione looked on from behind, not quite as amused.

"Are you quite all right?" she asked anxiously, causing Ron to roll his eyes. Harry nodded gloomily as the scare wore off and his thoughts began to return. He barely noticed the frowns that fell over his friends faces as he wearily picked himself up and slung his bag over his shoulder. The hallways were rather vacant and Ron was clearly eager to get to lunch.

"I didn't wait for a whole period just to miss the meal because Harry wants to daydream!" he complained. Harry faced him quizzically.

"What d'you mean 'wait a whole period'? What were you gonna do? Skive off class?"

"Class? I've been done since Transfiguration. I could have been at lunch an hour ago!" Harry was still baffled, but Ron ignored his confused look and went on mumbling about this friendship costing him far too many missed meals. Hermione, however, was never one to allow confusion.

"Harry?" she prodded, "Are you certain you're all right? Maybe you're a bit overtired? You weren't even paying attention in Healing."

"_Healing_?" Harry couldn't stop his shocked outburst. Had he sat through his whole Introductory Healing lesson without noticing it? Hermione's frown deepened.

"Oh! Honestly, Harry! Only you could sleep through a lesson and not even know it." Ron snorted, but Harry ignored it.

"I wasn't sleeping," he argued.

"Well, you might as well have been if you don't even recall being there! Harry, what's wrong?"

Harry stiffened and forced himself to acknowledge reality. Sooner or later, he would have to tell his friends the truth. But who could blame him for wanting to put it off? And yet, watching Hermione's worried face, he felt a sudden urge to talk to them. 'After all,' he thought, 'I made a promise to myself and I won't go back on it.' There would be no more secrets, and if that meant losing his best friends, then so be it.

Seeing no other way around it, Harry grabbed each friend by an elbow and dragged them behind a nearby tapestry. He had no idea how they might react, but there was nothing for it. To his relief, Hermione set cast a quick silencing charm around them without a word and before Harry could change his mind he just blurted it out.

"I'm a Confictiomagus!"

For a moment, both friends stared at him. In the dim light behind the tapestry, he could see two sets of eyes focused on him. His own eyes were stinging as he forced himself not to blink. He wished Ron or Hermione would say something. Yell at him, sneer at him, anything! But they simply looked blankly at him until he wished he could just sink into the stone wall behind him. He was just on the verge of trying it when suddenly Hermione spoke.

"Ha!" she said haughtily. "I _told_ you so."

Ron cast her a very sour look and rolled his eyes in the other direction. "Thanks a lot, mate! I'll never hear the end of it, now."

"Well, maybe next time you won't be so stubborn," Hermione warned.

"Right! That'll show me to trust my best mate's powers of self-observation." He looked at Harry grumpily. "You could have told me about this before I went around sticking up for you."

Harry, feeling slightly light-headed at this bizarre and unexpected response, simply shrugged and mumbled incoherently. "I…I did-didn't even…Dumbledore…"

Ron gave a half smirk, dropped his bag, and sunk to the floor in resignation. "Honestly! How is it that Hermione knows more about you than you do? We can't let her get away with this, Harry!" Hermione started to argue, but Ron cut her off. "I mean, really! This is the sort of thing you ought to know. Are you even sure your name is really Harry Potter?"

Harry's breathing was accelerating quickly, but he managed a sharp "Yes!" as he too slid down the wall and settled on the castle floor. His thoughts were racing through his head at top speed. Ron had just said it all out loud! It was true. He barely even knew himself. There were books that could probably teach him more than he knew about Harry Potter. But were they right? It was very disconcerting to realize that he had no idea who he was. Then again, neither of his friends seemed to be walking away. In fact, they were prattling away as if he hadn't even said anything.

"Really, Ron! You're just exaggerating now. I merely pieced some things together, that's all. Anyway," she turned to Harry, "Tell us all about it! What did Dumbledore say? I assume he told you? Have you invented any spells yet? Do you have any books on it, because I found one and it's quite good…"

With typical Hermione enthusiasm, she began elaborating eagerly on the many aspects of Confictiomagi and the possibilities and how she had figured it out. It made Harry rather dizzy, but he found he hardly cared. For once, he was thrilled to see her acting so very much like herself. Maybe this meant that everything would be all right after all? He'd told them the truth, and they hadn't cared in the least. As a relieved grin spread over Harry's face and Ron groaned beside him, Hermione plopped herself down and began to rustle through her school bag, still chattering excitedly. Ron took the opportunity to elbow Harry in the ribs. "We'll _never_ get to lunch now…"


End file.
